


Arthur: Conqueror of the Deep

by BeatriceTheGolden, Klei



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Forced Crossdressing, Gangbang, Humiliation, M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2017-06-11
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:44:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 119,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeatriceTheGolden/pseuds/BeatriceTheGolden, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Klei/pseuds/Klei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pirate Arthur one day happens across a puritan boy named Alfred and decides he wants to keep Alfred for himself, bringing the boy onto his ship and making him his new wife.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A new rp from Klei and I. We've been working on this one for awhile now and we like it so much we figured we might as well upload it.
> 
> Lots of warnings so be warned: noncon, underage (not shota, Alfred is a teenager), crossdressing, gangbangs, whipping, death (of pirate OCs), historical inaccuracy and more. Individual chapters will have their own warnings for what's in them. - bea

Arthur knew from the moment he saw him who would be warming his bed that night.

 

It was a lovely afternoon, the sun bleeding red over the horizon. The same color that would soon taint the many crops of the poor colonials, too isolated and holier-than-thou to properly fight back. Scouting ahead was merely a precaution, really; he couldn’t afford to get into the habit of letting his guard down. It went without a doubt that his crew could neutralize a tiny Puritan village in minutes. It was almost TOO easy, really. Ordinarily they went for bigger prey, seeing as there was so little of value to be found in such a place, but the men were in the mood to ravage some wenches, and he himself yearned for someone to toy with for a little bit. Everyone needed a change of pace every once in awhile. Even a pirate.

 

That in mind, he hadn’t initially envisioned that he would lust after a young man, strapping as he was. Oh, he’d certainly experienced it all - Heaven was already closed off to him - but right then, he couldn’t help but notice that his desire was a bit stronger than usual. There was something about him that made him so appetizing a target.

 

“Excuse me, lad,” he said in his most saccharine voice, the accent perhaps making his mainland origin a bit more obvious than he would have liked. He leaned over the fence between them and smiled. “I don’t suppose you happen to know the way to the nearest port?”

 

Alfred was busy outside, tending to the fields that his family owned as he heard an unfamiliar voice. Turning around he saw a man leaning onto the fence surrounding his family’s farm. It was no one he recognized and upon hearing his question knew the man must be from somewhere else outside his village.

 

“If you head straight that way,” Alfred said, pointing to the east, “And just keep going you should reach it. It’s not too far from here,” The man looked like he had just stepped off of a ship though, but Alfred wouldn’t question it. After all it wasn’t like he really knew much outside of his simple Puritan life.

 

“Many thanks,” said Arthur, reaching behind him in the most casual of manners. “I fear that my crew and I may have gotten a bit turned around. This place isn’t at all like the mainland, you see. Everything is so much further apart. So very… Isolated.” He began to stand up straight, as though he were about to leave.

 

Alfred became interested at hearing the man was part of a crew. Could he be a pirate? Surely not, he seemed so nice after all. “Oh, you get to sail the ocean? That sounds so fun!” Alfred said, sounding rather excited about it. He’d always been interested in such things but his parents had always made sure he knew such things were a sin. “What’s it like?”

 

Arthur chuckled, his hands closing around the gun. “Oh, it depends on the weather, really. Some days are better than others. I don’t suppose you’d like to see for yourself?” In less than a second, the flintlock pistol that he’d stowed away behind him was aimed right between Alfred’s curious blue eyes. “Not that you have a choice.”

 

Alfred barely had anytime to react as the pistol was raised and pointed right at his face. “Wh-What?” he asked, taking a few steps back but not daring to take his eyes off of the gun. He could feel his heartbeat speeding up, his chest pounding as the pirates words repeated itself in his mind, the boy trying to understand what exactly was going to happen.

 

“I can see that you aren’t very intelligent,” said Arthur, a sinister smirk tugging at his lips. “So I’m going to make this as simple as I can. You’re going to come with me, or you’re going to die.” As if on cue, dozens of burly men swarmed out of the nearby forest, guns in hand. The sweet sound of screams began filling the silence. Really, they ought to have been thanking him. It was probably the most interesting thing to happen in their village in generations. “Any questions?”

 

Before Alfred could even answer he was screaming, hearing gunshots and watching as his village was suddenly attacked. He was worried. Would his parents and brother be okay? He wanted to check on them, try and run off with them but he couldn’t do anything with the pistol pointed at his face. “Wh-Why do I have to come with you?”

 

“Because I’m the captain, and I said so,” answered Arthur flatly. He jerked the pistol towards the fence a few times without ever moving it far enough away to give Alfred an opening to run. “Or would you prefer to be sent to meet your maker?” Although he was a patient man, he had better things to do than wait for Alfred to get the message. “If your own life isn’t motivation enough, how about this? If you don’t come with me, I will personally see to it that your entire family dies. Slowly.”

 

Tears began to fall down Alfred’s cheeks as he heard that threat. “I-I’ll come, just don’t kill my family!” he sobbed, reaching up to wipe a few tears away with his hands. There was no way he could let his family die, he’d readily sacrifice himself for their lives.

 

Arthur beckoned for him to follow, his smile returning. “There’s a good lad. I’ll tell them to spare this house, then, shall I?” Well, of death, anyway. He pointed to the house in the distance that Alfred apparently resided in and made a waving motion with his hand at one of his men, indicating that the residents weren’t to be killed. He was nothing if not a man of his word. Anything short of that was still fair game, though. “Come along. I don’t have all day.” In the distance, houses and crops alike burned.

 

Alfred looked around, watching a his neighbors had their places burnt down, wishing he could somehow help everyone. Nodding he opened up the gate on their fence, stepping out and walking up to Arthur. “What are you going to do with me?” he asked, having no idea why a pirate would want to kidnap him of all people.

 

Such a clueless look on his pretty little face. It was quite endearing, if rather pathetic. “I certainly didn’t single you out for your brain,” he mused, getting around behind Alfred to press the gun to his back. “Off through the woods, then. We’ve little use for harbours.”

 

Alfred flinched as he felt the gun against his back, nodding as he slowly began to walk in direction of the forest. “Wh-Why there?” he asked, wishing the pirate would have answered his question.

 

“Because there’s a magical unicorn living there that will grant us three wishes if we placate it with a human sacrifice,” answered Arthur sarcastically. It was clear the lad wasn’t very bright, but to think he was that slow… “The ship is on the other side, you idiot.”

 

Alfred didn’t much appreciate being made fun of but kept quiet for now, knowing it would be rather stupid to talk back when there was a gun pressed against him. He continued walking with the other, leading him now into the small forest.

 

The trip wasn’t particularly long, and thankfully, it was made in relative silence. Well, silence aside from the terrible screaming and gunshots. As they reached the other side, the ocean came into view, and with it, one of the many little boats to ferry them out to the actual ship sitting out in the open ocean. It was a modest-looking vessel, perhaps, but that was because it was built for functionality, not form.

 

“There she is,” said Arthur, pushing Alfred towards the little dinghy where a few of his men stood, guarding the area and ready to ferry his crew back and forth.

 

Now that they were actually at the harbor Alfred was starting to get scared again, fresh tears running down his cheeks as he pushed towards the small boat. “Wh-What are you gonna do with me?” he asked, assuming he’d be kept as a slave, forced to work on the ship.

 

“Let’s just say that the maker isn’t looking out for you right now,” answered Arthur coolly, shoving Alfred into the boat and climbing in after him. Another man began to row, a look of mild amusement on his face. “You’ll be serving my men and I on board the ship for the rest of your days. Well, I suppose we might let you off in a few decades, when you grow useless, or I decide to retire. Whichever comes first.” He preferred younger partners.

 

“L-Like some slave?” Alfred asked, wondering what the other meant by serving? Was he to be cleaning? Or cooking? He wished the pirate would be less vague about it. Decades sounded way too long though, Alfred having to wipe more tears from his cheeks.

 

Arthur laughed and slung his arm over Alfred’s shoulder, the gun still pointed at his head with his other hand. “You poor, sheltered little thing. A close enough guess, I suppose. I promise, my little lamb, that you will come to enjoy your new job. Certainly, it will not be without some pain, but you’ll find yourself far more immersed in pleasures of the flesh than that tiny little village would have ever allowed.” It was ever so fun to mess with the heads of Alfred’s kind. The damn Catholics would have been just as horrified - well, they would pretend to be, anyway - but at least they might still feel like they could redeem themselves with one of their silly little indulgences. He couldn’t wait to see his new little pet break down beneath him. “You’ll thank me eventually, when you come to see what you’ve been missing.”

 

Pleasures of the flesh? Alfred thought he had an idea of what the pirate meant but it seemed too ridiculous to be true. Surely the pirate was just messing with his head, trying to scare him even more. He flinched as the other draped an arm around him, not liking the closeness between the two of them. Maybe he'd find a way to escape, surely he could somehow.

 

Arthur didn’t release him. At least, not until they reached the ship, by which point he knew there would be some climbing to get up on deck. “Go on, up the rope,” he ordered, letting go while still keeping the gun pointed at him at all times. “And don’t even think about trying to get away when you reach the top, or my men will open fire.” There were only a few still on deck, keeping watch while the majority of the crew engaged themselves in the raid. That said, they were still much more heavily armed than Alfred, whose only weapon had been a rusty sickle.

 

Alfred climbed on up onto the ship, having a bit of trouble with the rope but not too much. As soon as he boarded the ship everyone was staring at him, probably unaware that their captain was planning to bring someone back.

 

Arthur climbed up over the side shortly after him, gesturing for his understandably concerned crew to stand down. “Stay by my side if you don’t wish to die, my little lamb,” warned Arthur, shoving him off in the direction of the stern, where the captain’s quarters were located. “One wrong move, and you’ll be riddled with lead.” It was so much less fun to bed a corpse than it was an actual, living person. He knew there were those who enjoyed it, but he quite liked the sound of their futile pleading.

 

Alfred let the pirate push him, knowing fighting back was useless, especially considering he was surrounded by men much larger than him who were carrying weapons. "Wh-where are we going?" he asked, wondering what the pirate was really keeping him for.

 

“Keep walking, and you’ll find out,” said Arthur curtly. He almost felt sorry for the poor thing, who didn’t seem to have any sort of an idea as to what awaited him despite the hints that he’d so graciously bestowed upon him. A few members of the crew who understood what was happening either chuckled or rolled their eyes. The eye-rollers were, of course, very quick to change their tune when he shot glares in their direction; there was a reason he was captain, and he wasn’t about to let them forget that.

 

Alfred had to wonder why so many were laughing at him, the two of them finally reaching where Arthur's quarters were. He was so confused, having a very vague idea of what the pirate might be planning but telling himself that couldn't be true.

 

“Inside,” said Arthur, opening the door for him as any true gentleman would. It was a bit tight, perhaps, but it was enough. With a little rope, he would successfully conquer the young man as he had so many in the past. “You know, it just occurred to me that I never got your name. Although it doesn’t particularly matter, as I shall not deign to use it, I can’t help but be a little curious.”

 

"Alfred," Alfred responded, wondering what the man planned on calling him if not his own name. What did Arthur want with him in here? To clean? It looked clean enough. "Wh-what's your name?"

 

“As though I would dignify that with an answer,” scoffed Arthur, guiding Alfred to the bed pressed up against the wall. “You need only know that I am your captain, and you do as I say. Right now, I’m telling you to get on the bed and hold still.” Thankfully, a somewhat worn old rope from one of his earlier conquests was still sitting on his desk, and he took it in the hand that wasn’t still aiming the gun at Alfred. “Such an ugly name you have. I may have to change it.”

 

Alfred did as told and sat down on the bed, eyeing the rope Arthur had. "It's not ugly!" he snapped, not appreciating being insulted by this stranger. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, too scared to even ask what the rope was for.

 

Arthur’s eyes grew narrow, and he pressed the nozzle of the gun straight against Alfred’s head. “How quickly we forget our place on this ship, hm? You’re playing a more dangerous game than you realize. Have you forgotten what I can do? I can kill you. I can kill your family. About one third of your village is probably dead already.” He pressed the hand with the rope against Alfred’s chest and pushed him downward, until his head was on the pillows. “Arms over your head. I’m going to put the gun down. If I see you move so much as an inch, I will personally see to it that every man, woman and child in that village is dismembered alive and fed to the sharks, and you will be whipped until dead. Is that clear?”

 

Alfred was trembling, quickly moving his arms to rest above his head. He couldn't risk letting more people die, especially his own family. He hoped they would be alright, knowing they must be really worried about where he was. If only he could have at least said goodbye. He watched Arthur set his gun down, not even daring to ask what the other was doing.

 

It was a relief to have Alfred’s cooperation. Although he was confident that he could subdue him, having to punish him would delay the very thing he kidnapped the farmer in the first place. With the skill of someone who’d clearly done it several times, he tied Alfred’s hands together to keep him from flailing about as much, then proceeded to tie them to the decorative bed posts from there. “Good lad. Hold still, if you don’t want to get cut,” he said, pulling a knife from his pocket that he used to begin cutting away Alfred’s clothing, starting with his shirt.

 

Alfred's breath hitched as he saw the knife, closing his eyes and expecting pain only to hear a ripping sound and cool air hit his bare chest. "Wh-what?" he asked, eyes wide open now as he watched the pirate slice his clothing up. What was happening? He was tied to a bed and being stripped, was the pirate...no, no it couldn't be that Alfred told himself, not even sure if such a thing was even possible.

 

“Are you really still failing to comprehend the situation?” asked Arthur, staring down at Alfred like a hungry predator. “Do you really not understand what’s about to happen to you?” He continued cutting away at his captive’s attire; were it worth something, he probably would have tried not to damage it, but as it was, it wasn’t something he would be able to sell. If Alfred wanted something to cover himself, there were some needles and some thread on board for him to fix it himself. Not that he was likely to do a very good job of it; the odds that he’d picked up a skill for something traditionally seen as a woman’s job in his little village were unlikely.

 

Alfred could feel fresh tears forming in his eyes as he was finally stripped, left nude in front of the pirate. He crossed his legs, trying to hide himself. “B-But…” he started, not sure what to say exactly. “But...w-we’re both men,” he had heard of sodomy a few times at church but he never paid attention enough to really catch on what that meant.

 

“Such an astute observation!” teased Arthur, his hand gliding over Alfred’s bare chest. He had a muscular frame, no doubt from lugging around all those heavy tools. Still, he was a farmer, and Arthur doubted that he had a lot of experience fighting, at least beyond wrestling with other children in his village when he was young. “It should be obvious by now that your God cares little for your well-being. There’s no need to heed such rules any longer.” Not that he cared. Alfred was there for his enjoyment, not the other way around. He just loved seeing them break down and cry, convinced that they were going to Hell. Arthur pinched one of Alfred’s nipples between his thumb and forefinger and pressed his lips to his neck. “You reek of corn…”

 

“S-Stop!” Alfred couldn’t help but shout as he was touched, trying to turn his head away and get the man’s lips off of him. “Th-This is wrong, we can’t,” tears ran down his cheeks again, his lower lip trembling. He was a good person, he couldn’t do such immoral things.

 

Arthur smirked into his skin and sank his teeth into his shoulder, leaving a lovely little red impression. How cute; his little lamb still thought he had a choice! “We most certainly can. You just don’t believe we should. Of course, I suppose I’m not surprised. You colonials have always had such atrocious grammar.” He began to slide his tongue down Alfred’s body, from the crook of his neck, down his chest, and then to his navel.

 

Alfred couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him, back arching off of the bed a bit and goosebumps rising on his skin. “I-It’s wrong,” he sobbed, keeping his legs squeezed together tightly, a pathetic attempt at hiding himself from the other.

 

“A lot of things are wrong,” said Arthur, squeezing his hands between Alfred’s legs and forcing them apart. It wasn’t quite as easy as he expected; he’d been right when he predicted that Alfred would be strong. Still, he was young, and his muscles had been built up from peasant work, not combat. No match at all for a pirate captain. With his legs parted, Arthur took that chance to slide his tongue along his captive’s inner thighs.

 

“S-Stop,” Alfred gasped, hating how the man’s soft tongue against his flesh almost felt good. Almost. There was no way he could ever enjoy such a sinful thing. “P-Please, I don’t want to go to Hell,” he knew it sounded a bit silly but it was true. The pirate didn’t need to drag him down to Hell with him.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes. As far as he was concerned, anything that would punish someone for eternity for something out of their control wasn’t worth serving. The damn Puritans and their talk of predestination, however, made the least sense in his mind; if you were saved or doomed from birth, life as a whole seemed rather pointless. Either way, he supposed it didn’t matter. “Lad, I’ve killed hundreds of people throughout my life. Begging for mercy is pointless.” He let go of Alfred’s legs, and straddled his body, making sure to pick his gun back up as insurance for what he was about to do. Slowly, he pulled down the front of his trousers, releasing his erect cock from its confines. “Now, I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to take it. If you bite, not only will I kill everyone you love, but one of them will have to take your place after I put a bullet between your eyes.”

 

Alfred couldn’t help himself as his gaze went straight to Arthur’s cock. The pirate was going to put that in his mouth? It sounded so disgusting but he knew he had no choice. He couldn't let himself get killed, or even worse, let his family get killed. Knowing the pirate he’d just take his brother if he was killed.

 

“Well, don’t just stare at it,” snapped Arthur. “Open your mouth and suck it!” He’d taken a lot of people from all over the world, but so far Alfred had to be the slowest. “Or do I have to repeat myself?” If it weren’t for his pretty face, Arthur would have been sorely tempted to slit his throat. As it was, he settled for setting his gun down to box his ears.

 

Before Alfred could even react he felt a sudden, sharp pain in his ears, screaming in pain. His head felt like it was spinning and his ears were ringing. Despite his pain he kept his mouth open, remembering the pirate’s earlier threat.

 

Arthur picked his gun back up and made sure it was right against Alfred’s head before he pressed the head of his cock into the Puritan’s mouth. “Aah, good lad.” Such a warm, untainted mouth he had. Just knowing how thoroughly he was violating the young man beneath him was enough to keep him hard. He pushed his erection about halfway in, not quite sure just how well Alfred would be able to take the whole thing. They didn’t eat well in the colonies. If it weren’t for the land, there wouldn’t even be any reason to go there. Nothing but fish, corn, tobacco, and a bunch of angry natives to deal with. No, the high seas were far superior to all forms of land, that was for sure.

 

Alfred did his best not to bite down, curling his lips around his teeth so he wouldn’t do it accidentally. It was so disgusting, to have that in his mouth. He felt like throwing up, gagging a bit as the pirate pushed more of his cock in. Maybe if he just laid back and let the pirate do what he wanted it would be over soon, at least that’s what he kept telling himself anyways.

 

Arthur immediately noticed a struggle. It wasn’t that he cared how Alfred felt, but vomit was incredibly unattractive. He kept his thrusts gentle, the main goal to lubricate himself before the actual penetration. Actual, full-on mouth fucking would have to wait until he’d trained his new whore to resist his own gag reflex. Well, that was the plan, anyway. He could only hope that Alfred didn’t end up like his last few toys. A few suicides, two attempted escapes that led to them getting shot, and one that ended up getting suffocated to death during sex by an overzealous crew member. Said crew member had been swiftly ‘dealt with.’ Breaking the property of the captain, particularly beyond repair, was forbidden.

 

Alfred simply laid back, letting the man thrust into his mouth. He’d have to find a way to escape somehow, escape and find his family and run off to where the pirate couldn’t find them. Surely he could. Maybe a crew member would help him, although he severely doubted that. His gagging was going away bit by bit, getting used to the man’s cock slowly.

 

At last, Arthur withdrew his cock from Alfred’s mouth, and dragged the head of it down his chin. “Did you like how that tasted, little lamb?” He wore a cruel grin from ear to ear, and climbed back off to take his place back between his captive’s legs.

 

Alfred’s ears were still stinging, the boy shaking his head no at the question. It was so disgusting, like clammy skin. Body trembling he opened his mouth to beg, a quiet whimper escaping as his legs were spread again.

 

“That’s too bad. You’ll be tasting a lot of them,” said Arthur, licking his lips. “But that’s just the warm-up for what’s to come.” He rubbed his cock against Alfred’s soft, floppy length and sighed. Finally, the thing he’d been waiting for since he’d first seen that wonderful, round bottom. As he slid his erection between its two cheeks and up against his hole, he found with some satisfaction that it was just as warm and soft as he’d imagined.

 

“Ah…” Alfred gasped, hips jerking up as Arthur rubbed his cock against his own. He couldn’t help but flinch when the man’s cock rubbed against his entrance, Alfred wishing he could at least cover his face with his hands.

 

“Oh?” said Arthur, pleasantly surprised by that little noise of Alfred’s. “Perhaps you like this more than you let on.” He had such a cute look on his face, all red and embarrassed. It was no wonder he’d felt so drawn to him. His expression was just perfect. Slowly, Arthur lined himself up, and began pushing in.

 

Before Alfred could reply with a stern ‘no’ he was screaming, pain ripping through his entire body as the pirate shoved himself in. It was so painful, it felt like he was being ripped in two slowly. It felt so wrong, like he was committing a great sin just by having this done to him.

 

Arthur was delighted by his screams, and by the silent plea for mercy written all over his face. That look of hopelessness and desperation, only made better by a look of bitter defeat when they inevitably succumbed to their own crippling misery. He was incredibly tight, especially as Arthur finally managed to push his entire length into his twitching hole.

 

Alfred’s body was trembling, tears staining his face as he continued to sob. It was so incredibly painful and humiliating. He had to wonder what he had done to deserve such a thing. He was a good person, he always did his best, what had he done to deserve such pain?

 

“Pitiful,” said Arthur breathily, pressing his forehead to Alfred’s. “You’re doing a terrible job dealing with the pain. I must say, though, you feel fantastic.” He pulled himself out, and then thrust back in without any care for the well-being of his captive. “Does it sadden you, to know your creator has left you to this fate? Does it hurt you to feel me deep within you, violating everything you hold dear?”

 

Alfred turned his head as Arthur pressed his forehead against his. His eyes were screwed shut, tears continuing to fall. Why had he been abandoned? Why had he been forced into such a fate? “I-It hurts,” he whimpered, screaming as the pirate began to thrust.

 

No, no he didn’t want to be touched there, he didn’t want it to feel good. Such a thing was a sin, he had even avoided temptation when he got the urges to touch himself, remembering how he had done it once only to feel extremely guilty afterwards.

 

Arthur could see the distress on his face; he usually preferred looks of pain to looks of pleasure, but the emotional pain of your body betraying you was by far his favorite look. He longed to see that soul-crushing despair shining through Alfred’s blue eyes. With malicious glee, he began sliding his hand up and down, intent on hardening it.

 

Alfred could feel small sparks of pleasure building up inside him as Arthur stroked his cock. He hated it, he hated how he was actually getting hard despite the pain and humiliation.

 

“Hah, not so high and mighty now, are you?” purred Arthur, speeding both his hips and his hand. He couldn’t get enough of Alfred’s insides, so smooth and untouched. Virgins were definitely the best fucks, and anal virgins were simply abundant. “I knew you would like it. Whore.”

 

“N-Not a whore,” Alfred sobbed, screaming out again as the pirate sped up his movements. He wasn’t a whore. Whores were terrible people, people going to hell for engaging in pleasures of the flesh outside of wedlock.

 

“Well, I suppose you wouldn’t be, if we were married,” said Arthur playfully. “I’ll have my first mate hold a ceremony in the morning, shall I? Then you’ll just be doing your duty to your husband as a loving wife!” He cared little for religion; he was a thief and a murderer, after all. Having a fake little ceremony just to freak Alfred out even more sounded incredibly entertaining. “Until death do us part, hm?”

 

“I-I’m not a woman!” Alfred shouted, not at all amused by Arthur’s suggestion. Two men couldn’t get married, such an idea was utterly ridiculous. Even if he was a woman being married to such a man would be terrible.

 

“Oh, really? You had me fooled,” said Arthur, his hand moving quickly up and down Alfred’s half-hard shaft. “I wonder, if you get pregnant, what should we name the baby? I’m partial to Alexander, myself.” Arthur, Alfred, Alexander. The thought was enough to have him laughing almost to the point of tears as he viciously plundered the farmer’s tight hole.

 

Alfred really, really wished Arthur would stop with the joking. It was only making him feel worse, for a split second wondering if he even could get pregnant since they were having sex and sex was for procreation. He quickly shook the thought away though, knowing it was ridiculous to even think that was possible.

 

It was clear he would have to pull out all the stops to have Alfred fully aroused. Arthur leaned over and lapped at his neck, briefly slowing his hips to give him a bit of a break while he stroked his cock. Next came something he’d picked up from that French rival of his. He pressed his lips to Alfred’s, even as he struggled to avoid the contact, and shoved his tongue into his mouth.

 

The kiss had caught Alfred off guard, disgusted when he felt the pirates tongue enter. It was so disgusting but at the same time he couldn’t help but let out a whimper, his cock leaking a bit of precum as Arthur’s movements began to become more gentle.

 

After a long moment, Arthur pulled his lips away, and looked Alfred straight in the eyes. “You know,” he began, “I’ve never bedded any man who liked this as much as you.” It was a lie, of course, but that wasn’t the point. “You know, I was going to have you walk the ship naked, but I’ve changed my mind. I’ll find you a dress and bonnet. If you’re good, I may even find you some pretty jewelry to wear with it.” He changed the angle of his thrusts, determined to get that sweet spot that would have Alfred silly with despair.

 

Alfred shut his eyes, not wanting to stare at the other’s bright green eyes. He hoped Arthur was lying, lying about him enjoying it and lying about the clothing. He couldn’t wear women’s clothing, he was a man! “N-Not enjoying it…” he groaned, hips jerking up into Arthur’s touch.

 

“Of course not. That’s why you’re so hard, isn’t it? Face it, little lamb, the evidence is right before you,” said Arthur, pressing his thumb against Alfred’s slit. “What other man could take pleasure out of being sodomized by a pirate?” Even if he didn’t have Alfred completely believing his words by the end of their game, at least he would sow the seeds of self-doubt.

 

Alfred couldn't deny that it did feel good, at least a little that is. It still hurt quite a bit but the pain was dying down and pleasure was replacing it. He couldn't understand why his body was betraying him. He wasn't enjoying it, was he?

 

“You can’t even deny it,” taunted Arthur. His own length was as stiff as could be, and he could feel his own orgasm drawing closer with every successive thrust into Alfred’s tight, warm body. “Did you ever think that maybe the reason this is happening is because you deserve it?” He wanted Alfred to reach his climax, then wallow in misery in the brig for the rest of the night.

 

It had to be true though, maybe he did deserve it. Was this because of the time he touched himself? Or all the times he'd fallen asleep in church? It had to be a punishment. Opening his mouth Alfred could only let out a low moan, Arthur's cock occasionally hitting his prostate.

 

“Oh, you poor, damned soul, wallowing in your sin,” said Arthur softly, nuzzling Alfred’s cheek. Images of his captive’s mangled corpse began to form in his mind. Such beautiful blood splattered about the deck. That had ended at least four of his pets; a simple desire to see them die just as they peaked. He would have to do his best to hold back. Otherwise the sharks would dine on human that night.

 

Alfred simply laid back, letting the pirate ravage his body. Pleasure was building up inside of him, feeling like that one time he had sinned. The nuzzling felt so strange, so gentle despite the other's harshness, almost comforting in an odd way.

 

Arthur sifted his fingers through Alfred’s hair, which felt damp with sweat and grease. Although many of his crew favored wealthy conquests, with their fair, unmarred skin, he himself had a strong preference for the working class. The calloused hands, strong bodies, and tan from the sun held much more appeal to him. He pressed his lips to the farmer’s sweaty brow and pushed his legs a little further apart.

 

Alfred head rolled back as he let out a loud groan, pleasure pooling in his belly as Arthur stroked his cock. Oh he hoped that somehow he would be forgiven. Or was it really a punishment? It had to be a punishment, he had to have done something bad to deserve this.

 

Arthur knew he was reaching his limits, and there was no way that he was going to end it before Alfred had spilled his seed. If it wasn’t completely indisputable that he’d enjoyed himself, he would be slower to break. There was nothing better than the look on their faces post-orgasm when they realized what had happened. He wanted to see that on his captive. “I wonder,” he whispered into Alfred’s ear, “how often have you touched yourself before this? How many times have you sinned, you vile slut?”

 

Alfred wouldn’t even answer, too focused on that pleasure building up inside him. It felt like that one time he had sinned which only caused Alfred to start sobbing again. His hips jerked up, his body craving more of Arthur’s touch. “Ah..” he gasped, back arching off of the bed as he suddenly came, warm cum splattering over his own stomach and Arthur’s hand.

 

Finally, with that out of the way, Arthur was able to go all out. With no further need to be gentle, he swung Alfred’s legs up onto his shoulders and began pounding into him for all he was worth, not caring if he cried or bled. It didn’t take long after he started for him to reach his blissful peak, and he bit into Alfred’s shoulder as his sperm shot into his body.

 

Alfred cringed as he felt the other come, feeling like throwing up. It was so disgusting, to have another man’s seed inside of him like he was some woman.”G-Get out,” he begged, just wanting his arms to be untied so he could roll over and cry for a bit.

 

“Excuse me, but this is my room,” said Arthur flatly. He wanted to refuse just to spite him, his cock was quickly going soft. “And this is my ship. The first rule of my ship is that my will is law. If you don’t like that, then I will be more than happy to escort you off. In the middle of the ocean, with stones tied to your ankles.” He pulled himself out and tucked himself away.

 

Alfred grunted as the pirate pulled out, cringing in disgust as he felt a bit of the man’s cum drip out of him. His arms were getting really sore, feeling numb in some places already. “P-Please, untie me my arms hurt.”

 

“As you wish.” He untied the rope and tossed it onto his desk, then aimed the gun at Alfred’s head. “Now, if you’ll kindly allow me to escort you to the brig, I would be very much obliged.” It was almost a shame that Alfred hadn’t tried anything. He’d been so hoping for an excuse to torment him further. Well, maybe if he tried to escape. That would be just lovely. He hadn’t whipped anyone in ages. His entire crew was too frightened to disobey him.

 

“Wh-Why the brig?” Alfred asked, rubbing his sore arms. He’d have bruises for sure although that was really the least of his worries. “And you tore up my clothes. What am I supposed to wear?”

 

“The answer to your first question is because you’ll try running away if I leave you anywhere else,” said Arthur, his tone like that of an English gentleman despite the situation. “You’re better off for it, really. If I gave you a hammock with the rest of the crew, you’d almost certainly be violated throughout the night. I’d rather not have my crew tired in the morning because they didn’t get any sleep.” He opened the door, and motioned for Alfred to go through. “As for clothes, I already told you I would get you a pretty dress to wear. For now, though, you’ve no need of them.”

 

Well, sleeping down there would at least be better than sleeping with Arthur or any crewmembers, although having to wear a dress sounded terrible. Alfred got up, walking slowly with the pirate through the door, using his hands to cover his vital regions. The ship was still docked, Alfred wondering if escape would be possible that night.

 

“Hands off your damned crotch and into the air,” ordered Arthur, raising his hand as a warning. “That is, unless you want me to box your ears again.” He wanted everyone to see the droplets of cum dripping down his softened length, and the white streaks still running down his inner thighs. The person in charge of swabbing the deck would probably be unamused, but such were the perks of being captain. As long as they were getting their share of the money, they had no right to complain.

 

Alfred’s ears were still ringing from the first time time it had happened, the boy slowly moving his arms away and holding them up. He could see a few people on deck as they walked up, shivering as the pirate’s cum dripped down his thighs.

 

“You’re awfully calm walking around naked in broad daylight for a Puritan,” remarked Arthur with a sneer. “I knew there was something about you I liked. You really are a whore. It’s really no wonder your God abandoned you.” As he pushed Alfred along, one of the crew members remaining on board got bold, reached out, and slapped him on the ass. Arthur raised an eyebrow, sending him scurrying away, but otherwise took no action. It was actually good for Alfred to learn his place. He just couldn’t have people undermining his authority and getting off without at least a glare.

 

Alfred yelped as he was suddenly slapped, moving his arms down to cover his ass only to remember Arthur’s threat, raising them again. He wasn’t calm, he was far from calm, but with a gun pointed at him and the threat of his family being killed he had to at least act like he was. He needed to get out, to find his family and leave. Surely he would be able to. Even the pirate needed to sleep sometime.

 

It wasn’t a long walk to the brig, but Arthur took it slow, giving everyone a chance to see his new toy. Briefly, he wondered how the raid was going. Knowing his crew, they were probably having a grand old time with their new conquests, and would probably end up drinking through the night. He supposed it was fine. There wasn’t quite as much pressure to rush in the colonies. Even if someone else showed up, it would take long enough for proper soldiers to arrive that they would be able to get away without a problem. Maybe they would be able to sell that gold they’d picked up from that Spanish supply ship in port.

 

The walk was painful, it felt like an eternity before the two of them reached the brig. At least now though no one could see him and he would get to sleep alone. If only he could bathe but he figured asking the pirate would just get him in more trouble so he kept his mouth shut, figuring Arthur would say something when he was wanting him to bathe.

 

Arthur opened the door, stepped behind Alfred, and kicked him inside with the intent to knock him to the ground. “I suppose that as my new wife, I should probably feed you,” said Arthur, slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of hardtack, which he tossed through the bars as though he were feeding a ravenous dog. “One of the sailors will bring you a bowl of water. Behave yourself, or you’ll be going thirsty.”

 

An honorable man would have set the keys out of reach, such as on the hook intended for that very purpose. Alas, he was not an honorable man, and set them down on a table nearby that he was certain Alfred would be able to get to with a little effort.

 

Alfred did fall as he was kicked, landing on his rather sore ass. As Arthur shoved the hardtack in Alfred realized that he really wasn’t all that hungry. After everything that had just happened he knew he would just throw up if he ate. Water did sound nice though, he could stay quiet and calm until he got some. Standing up Alfred looked around, finding a few hammocks around. They didn’t look all that comfortable but it was better than nothing. However as he was looking his eyes caught hold of keys, sitting there on a table. He could feel his heart skip a beat as he saw them, wondering if the pirate had forgotten them or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur sat idly in his quarters, looking over his charts and trying to come up with the next course of action. It was nice that they’d taken a break to brutalize a few isolated colonial villages, but it was time to get back to work. He’d already heard talk that the Spanish were thinking of adding more security around the ships going back and forth from their colonies to the mainland, and he wanted to make sure that they squeezed them for as much as they could before it became impossible. Still, that was all the way down south, and they would be stopping in several ports along the way to resupply. The question remained whether they wanted to buy things legitimately, or steal them in the night and risk drawing attention to themselves.

 

Briefly, his mind went back to his new captive. He hoped that he took the bait. Running a ship, especially a pirate ship, was a stressful career. He needed an excuse to release some of the pent-up tension.

 

Alfred had finally gotten his water, sipping it as he tried the hardtack, succumbing to his his stomach rumbling. It tasted terrible and after a few bites he had tossed it aside, finishing the water instead. He kept his eyes on the keys, as if they would disappear if he were to blink. It was too good to be true, but he had to try at least. It would be stupid not to. Luckily he also never felt the ship start to move, realizing that they were still in port.

 

After what felt like hours Alfred got up and grabbed the keys, putting them in the keyhole one by one until he found the right one. As quietly as he could he opened the door, heading up to the ship’s deck and sighing in relief when he saw it was nighttime. Now all he had to do was not be spotted as he escaped.

 

Arthur, still at his desk, heard a knock at the door. “Yes, what is it? Make it quick, I’m busy.”

 

Slowly, the door opened, and one of his men stepped inside. “Sir, that boy you were keeping locked up managed to escape; we spotted him just a moment ago on his way to the dinghy. Would you like us to go after him?”

 

Arthur smiled. Of course. What a fool. Did he really think that nobody would be on watch at night? Only a crew of fools would have everyone sleeping at once. Even for those who liked to stay within the law, it left them open to being targeted by pirates.

 

“Wait for him in the boat, under the seats; it’s tied to the side opposite from the one we were ferrying ourselves across from, so it should take him a few minutes to find it. Then jump out and surprise him when he gets there. Drag him back onto the ship, then bring him to me.”

 

“Aye, captain.”

 

Alfred had assumed there would be people on watch, doing his best to try and stay hidden. Problem now was where to find the boat to take him back to land. He could swim, but even that swim would be too cold and too far for him. Luckily he bumped into it by accident, seeing the boat there. Now all he had to do was somehow get in it and make his escape…

 

Suddenly, a pair of armed pirates popped out from under the seats, twisted grins on their faces. The one to the left pointed his musket in Alfred’s direction and laughed. “Did you really think it would be that easy?” he asked as the other climbed over the side to get back into the ship. “That our captain would just leave those keys out in the open like that? You’ve been set up, you poor bastard.”

 

Alfred couldn’t help but let out a scream as he was suddenly ambushed, about ready to turn and run until he saw the musket pointed in his direction. He felt so stupid now, knowing there would have been no way Arthur would have left the keys out like that. “P-Please,” he begged, wishing his family had more money, maybe then he could have made a deal with these pirates.

 

“Please, what? Let you go?” asked the pirate who’d climbed back into the ship, grabbing Alfred by the arm. “Captain Kirkland would have our heads.”

 

“Well, he is an idiot. Maybe he thought we’d feel sorry for him.”

 

“No one is that stupid.”

 

The pirate with the musket kept it pressed against Alfred’s back as they marched him off to the main deck, where Arthur stood waiting in the lantern light, a barbed whip in his gloved hands.

 

Alfred wished he could have kept his tears in, hating how weak he felt and even looked. He could see Arthur coming up in the distance, noticing the whip in his hands. It would hurt, he wasn’t sure how badly, but surely as bad as earlier if not worse. “P-Please don’t,” he sobbed, reaching up to wipe his eyes.

 

“Tie him to the mast,” said Arthur in an eerily calm voice, as though he wasn’t angry at all. Which was, in fact, probably because he wasn’t angry. The situation had been very much intentional from the start.

 

His men shoved Alfred against the large wooden fixture, wrapped his arms around it, and bound his wrists tightly, leaving his bare back and buttocks exposed. The job was made easy by the fact that he was already nude. Arthur couldn’t help but find it a shame that he wouldn’t be able to see the full extent of the damage in the dim light.

 

Alfred tugged at the rope binding his wrists to the mast, knowing it was ultimately useless to even try and escape. All he could do was brace himself for the pain he knew was to come, hoping that the pirate would take pity on him. He wanted to pray, beg for forgiveness but he knew his prayers wouldn’t be answered, not after what had happened earlier.

 

“How many lashes do you intend to give him, sir?” asked one of his men.

 

“As many as it takes for the lesson to sink in,” he answered simply. The man who’d asked the question couldn’t help but wince sympathetically, despite himself; they all knew very well what that meant. It would be days before the captive farmer would be capable of doing much more than try to rest and recover, let alone attempt another escape. Arthur ran a tight ship. They all remembered the man he’d whipped to the point of unconsciousness and proceeded to hang for falling asleep on his watch. No one had dozed off since, no matter how tired they were.

 

He raised his arm, and the first lash fell across Alfred’s back.

 

Alfred wasn't prepared for the pain, the barbs tearing off bits of flesh as the pirate landed the first hit of the whip. His screams were loud, louder than they were before and fresh tears fell down his cheeks. He wasn't sure if he could handle this. Just one whip had done enough to turn him into a blubbering mess.

 

Arthur slid his hand along the whip’s long handle and sighed. He’d been hoping that Alfred would hold up a bit better than that. Oh well. He was young yet. After a few years of ship life, he would get better at toughing it out. The next lash came from the side, like the slash of a sword, striking him across his lower back.

 

Alfred jumped, blood running down as more skin was torn off with the whip. He knew that it probably wasn't as bad as his screams made it sound but he was just so overwhelmed. He had been kidnapped, sinned, locked away, and now whipped all in one day.

 

“He’s going to have scars all over his back,” murmured one of the crew members. “How am I supposed to pretend he’s a woman like that?”

 

“I rather like the battered look, myself. Besides, there’s no way you can pretend that, anyway; it’s obvious even from behind that it’s a man…”

 

“If you have time to chat,” snapped Arthur, “you have time to work. Go take an inventory of all the gold. And so help me, if I find one piece in your pockets that wasn’t in your pay, you’ll be demoted to his status.” He jerked his head in Alfred’s direction, just before proceeding to strike him with the whip straight across his bottom. Both of them quickly ran off to do as they’d been told; the first time he’d made a threat like that, a man had been convinced he was bluffing.

 

He never bluffed.

 

Well, at least no one would be standing around watching Alfred thought to himself, trying to think of something good, anything. As long as he could distract himself from the pain. He flinched as he heard the whip crack again, flesh torn from his ass as blood began to drop from it as well.

 

Arthur brought down his arm yet again, striking twice in quick succession. Once across Alfred’s shoulder blades, and once more across his lower back, crossing over one of the earlier cuts. He was bleeding quite badly by then, he noted, and the blood was getting all over the wooden deck. That would be a pain to clean once it dried, he knew. Arthur furrowed his brow and considered ending it a little earlier than usual; after all, it was a first offense. And quite frankly, Alfred wasn’t taking it as well as he’d hoped.

 

Alfred was barely standing, his legs feeling like they’d give out any second now. The pain and blood loss wasn’t helping, only making him feel rather dizzy. He braced himself for a third strike, letting out a sigh of relief when it never came. Hopefully now the pirate would patch him up and let him rest for a bit.

 

Just as Alfred finally began to relax and let his guard down, however, Arthur let him have it with a final blow across his behind, criss-crossing with the previous one to have landed there. At last, with his toy appearing to be on the verge of passing out, Arthur handed the whip to one of his men and stepped forward to go check on Alfred’s injures with the oil lamp hanging beside the door.

 

Alfred had fallen to his knees with the last blow, unable to hold himself up anymore. He was too weak, he felt so pathetic. He could hear the pirate step forward, not daring to crane his head to look at the man.

 

Arthur held the lantern close to Alfred’s back to get a better look at the damage. “Hmm, nothing a little rest won’t fix,” he said simply, untying the rope that had his captive’s arms bound to the post. He didn’t even bother with his gun; he knew that Alfred had absolutely no chance to get away in such a state. “Come on, lad, can you get up?”

 

Alfred rubbed his sore arms as they were freed, slowly standing up but not without hissing in pain. His entire back and ass stung, blood dripping down onto the wood beneath them. He wasn’t sure how well he would be able to walk though, plus he’d be sleeping on his stomach for quite awhile.

 

Arthur sighed and removed his coat; he didn’t want it tainted with whore-blood. It was one thing for it to be ruined in battle, but the blood of a fuck-toy was about as dignified as a tea stain. He tossed it over the shoulder of one of the nearby members of his crew to carry - much to their annoyance - and slung Alfred’s arm over his shoulders.

 

“You should be honored,” said Arthur, slowly walking forward. Alfred was heavier than he’d initially anticipated. “It’s not every day the captain escorts a prisoner to the brig. I thought I would make a special exception for my new wife.”

 

Alfred let the pirate help him walk, glad at least for this tiny bit of mercy. “We’re not married,” Alfred mumbled, not really caring if Arthur heard him. He was no one’s wife, he was a man there was no way he could be a wife.

 

“Oh, my apologies, love,” said Arthur, quick to correct himself. “Of course you’re not my wife. Simply my fiancé, yes?” He laughed and gave one of the crew members standing around a light kick. “You. Be a dear and open the door for the bride-to-be.”

 

Alfred wished he could have at least had Arthur’s coat, shivering in the cool night air. Would he at least be patched up? Surely the pirate had some bandages on his ship. Plus he wanted his injuries to heal quickly. “A-Are you gonna bandage my back up?”

 

“Hmm… I suppose I could,” mused Arthur as they descended the steep staircase to get below deck. “But bandages are quite valuable on a pirate ship, you know. People get injured all the time. It would take a bit of persuasion to waste some on you, even if you ARE my fiancé.” He took another look at Alfred’s back. It definitely required treatment, and he couldn’t have his new toy dying so early, but he wanted Alfred convinced that his life meant nothing to him. Otherwise he would be harder to break. “So, tell me, then… Why should I waste valuable bandages on you? What do you have to offer me?”

 

Alfred slowly walked down the stairs, being careful not to fall. “Um…” he wasn’t sure how to respond, not knowing what he could offer the pirate. He was already a slave, there wasn’t much more he could do. “Wh-Whatever you want,” he simply responded, hoping that would be enough to get some bandaging.

 

“Oh, really?” said Arthur, his tone one of disbelief. “Very well, then. Let’s test that, shall we?” Alfred was obviously not very bright, making such a big claim without fully understanding the ramifications. Still, he was young. Hopefully, he would smarten up with time, as there were uses for whores beyond that of just personal enjoyment. “Would you renounce your God and pledge your soul to me?”

 

Alfred hadn’t been expecting that, not sure how to answer. On one hand he was already doomed to hell, but on the other renouncing God was something he didn’t think he could do so easily. He kept quiet at that, hoping the pirate would suddenly say that he was joking.

 

Unfortunately, no such words came. Only a period of silence followed by Arthur shaking his head. “Foolish boy. Don’t make proclamations that you can’t keep. The next time you lie to me, you’ll have your back against that post, and it will be your chest that feels the bite of the whip.” He couldn’t reward such an error with bandages, but he could give Alfred a chance to correct himself. As he led Alfred into his cell, Arthur decided to pose another question. “How about we start with something simpler, hm? Would you tell your husband-to-be that you’re eager to be his wife?” Knowing it would be a blow to Alfred’s pride to do so, he added, “It’s fine if you can’t. Those bandages can be put to a much better use than a runaway slut.”

 

Well...that was better than the whole renouncing God thing. “I-I’m eager to be your wife…” Alfred mumbled, making sure he was loud enough for Arthur to hear. Saying those words stung, Alfred having to hold back his tears. The threat of the whip was enough to make him do what the other told him, not sure if he could handle anymore pain that day.

 

Arthur had hoped for something a bit more enthusiastic, but he supposed it was foolish to think Alfred would be willing to do more than that so early after being kidnapped. “That will do,” he said, easing Alfred off of his shoulder. “I don’t think you’ll be able to sleep in a hammock tonight, but I’ll have someone spread a couple of old rags out on the floor for you. They’ll be able to bandage you up, too.” That certainly wasn’t his job. Such menial tasks were given to those of significantly lower status, not much higher in rank than Alfred himself.

 

Alfred was glad he wasn’t forced to sleep in the hammock, knowing there was no way he would be able to sleep on his back. He sank down to his knees as Arthur let go of him, feeling way too weak to stand. “C-Can I have some water please?” he dared to ask, his mouth and throat feeling so dry.

 

“You’re awfully demanding for a prisoner,” said Arthur, but he nodded regardless. “Very well, since you’ll need your strength back to properly do your job. But I don’t want any more escape attempts.” Not that it would matter much; by the time Alfred finally recovered enough to stand, they would be out at sea.

 

“I-I won’t,” Alfred whimpered, glad to hear he’d be getting some water. He wasn’t trying to be demanding, he was just so thirsty. His throat felt raw from all his screaming, his voice getting hoarse.

 

“Good lad. There should be plenty to drink while we’re anchored by land,” said Arthur. He locked the door behind him, unnecessary as it was with Alfred’s injuries, and left the keys on the hook a good distance away from the bars where they belonged. “I look forward to seeing you in the morning. If the rocking of the ship makes you ill, just use the bucket they use to bring you your water to throw up. Unless you enjoy sleeping in a puddle of your own vomit.”

 

Alfred nodded, lying down on the hard floor. He was so tired he knew he could easily fall asleep without any bedding. Hopefully he wouldn’t get seasick, he felt bad enough already without having to throw up.

 

With no more to say, Arthur put out the oil lamp and left the room, leaving Alfred in the darkness, alone and in silence. Perhaps, if he didn’t cause trouble, he would let him above deck when he was well to see what it was like to be on a ship in motion, out at sea. It was a lovely view, provided you weren’t one of the sailors responsible for keeping it running.

 

Alfred shivered a bit, wishing he had a blanket to cover up in. Despite the terrible pain he was in he was extremely exhausted. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore his pain as he slowly fell asleep, hoping that when he woke up he’d realize this had all been a terrible dream.


	3. Chapter 3

“Raise the anchor!”

It was a beautiful day to set sail. The sun was shining, the wind was blowing, and they’d managed to secure a few more goods from the Puritan village than he’d first thought. According to his sources, Alfred’s family was still very much alive - although not exactly well - and several families had possessed some iron goods like pots and pans that would fetch a decent, if not fantastic, price overseas. Arthur barked out orders to his men, eager to get back to sea before some trader or another came by to bring reinforcements. Everything had gone exactly as planned, something he found was rather rare when it came to life as a pirate.

On the downside, their food stores had been filled to the brim with corn, something Arthur had very quickly gotten his fill of during his first week exploring the colonies, and he couldn’t stand the smell of the looted tobacco that his men insisted on smoking.

Alfred hadn't slept too well. He kept waking up from pain or nightmares. He could feel the ship moving, glad it wasn't making him seasick. Sitting up he saw a bucket of water, pretty much chugging it down. It must be daytime he figured, wondering if Arthur was going to come down and see him sometime. He hoped not, being alone was better than being with the pirate.

It was clear that Alfred had terrible luck, because it wasn’t long before there was a sound like boots going down the stairs, and a lantern was lit. “I hope I haven’t interrupted anything important,” said Arthur, staring through the bars at his conquest. “How have you been, love?” He smirked down at the young colonist and reached for the keys. “I hope you haven’t been missing me too much.”

Alfred groaned, sitting up on his knees. He noticed he had a few old rags around him, probably brought down after he had fallen asleep. His back stung still, not as bad as before but the pain was still there. "I'm...fine," he answered, rubbing his eyes with his hands.

“Oh, that’s good,” said Arthur, unlocking the door and entering the room. He knelt down beside Alfred and looked over his back. The bandages were bloody, and would have to be changed, but at least the bleeding had stopped. He’d been told by many a doctor about the wonders of bleeding as a treatment, but he’d seen all too many a member of his crew fall in battle because their throats were sliced open. “Because today is our wedding day.”

"Wh-what?" Alfred asked, eyes going wide in shock as he heard that. A wedding? He thought the pirate had been joking. There was no way two men could get married, such a thing was absurd. He didn't want to risk getting whipped again though, keeping his protests to himself.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten already!” said Arthur, feigning sadness. “And to think, I found you the most beautiful dress, too! Perhaps not quite as beautiful as that of royalty, but it’s amazing what you happen across when you’re rifling through the goods of wealthy merchants.” He traced his fingers along the wounds. Too much movement would open them back up. It didn’t matter so long as he was in his cell, but he would have to keep him as still as possible while he was in the dress. They still had to sell it after they were done using it to torment Alfred. “And then, of course, we’ll have to consummate the marriage…”

Alfred flinched as his wounds were touched, too scared to even dare move to get away from the other. He was a man! He couldn't wear a dress and get married. "We've already done that, last night," he muttered, hating the condescending tone in Arthur's voice.

“You silly little colonial folk,” said Arthur, ruffling Alfred’s hair. “You can’t consummate a marriage before you’re married. That’s just ridiculous.” He was taking quite a lot of amusement from his new toy, and his dim-wittedness and inability to stay quiet even when it was obvious he was being teased were only making it better.

Alfred growled as his hair was ruffled, turning his head away from Arthur. He knew he was being teased but it was so hard to keep quiet, the pain in his back reminding him though that it was for the best. "Whatever," he mumbled, doing his best to hold in his tears.

Arthur chuckled. “Don’t you want to see your wedding dress?” he asked, standing back up. “Or is it that you can’t actually walk?” He hadn’t been too much better off, the first time he’d been on the wrong end of a whip, but at least he’d made an effort. Then again, he’d also been on a legitimate ship of his own free will, so he supposed that there might have been a tiny difference between the two scenarios. “We’ve even found an old corset gathering dust in the storeroom.”

Alfred struggled to stand up, a few tears making their way down his cheeks. It hurt so bad but he didn't want to appear too weak. The corset sounded painful though, especially considering his wounds. God really had forsaken him hadn't he?

Arthur helped him to his feet and slung his arm over his shoulders as he had the previous day. “Don’t fret, love. We won’t tie it too tightly. Now, I just need you to sit on that barrel over there while I fix your bandages. Do you think you can manage that?” he asked, as though he were actually concerned. He guided Alfred over to the object in question, and hoisted him up onto the lid to begin removing the bloody bandages.

Alfred nodded, knowing his bandages would need to be changed considering there had been blood stains on the floor he had slept on. “I don’t need a corset,” he said, dreading the idea of having to wear one. 

“You’re a bit on the pudgy side,” said Arthur, cutting the bandages off with a knife and tossing them to the floor for someone else to take care of later. The poor people of the colonies had better access to meat than those back home on the mainland. All of the forests where he’d been born had been owned by the wealthy, and hunting on them had been forbidden. That, and Alfred had lived by the coast, where he had no doubt had a steady supply of fish. “It’s not very flattering for a lady.”

Alfred couldn’t help but look down as Arthur said that, noticing that his tummy was a bit pudgy. “I’m not fat,” he snapped, suddenly feeling very self conscious about it. Even if he was fat he wasn’t a woman and was really getting tired of Arthur insisting he was.

Arthur almost felt sorry for the poor thing, obviously too dense to learn from his mistakes. As he had the previous day, the pirate held his hands up and boxed his ears before he began to wrap a roll of bandages around Alfred’s torso. “You are what I say you are. If I tell you that you’re a dog, you kneel down and bark. Do you understand, or do I need to remind you of just who it is you’re speaking to?”

Alfred certainly hadn’t been expecting that, screaming out in pain. He couldn’t exactly hear what Arthur said after that, his ears ringing and his hearing slowly coming back. “S-Sorry,” he said, almost screaming it considering he could barely even hear himself speak. 

Arthur sighed. He had a lot of work to do, that was for sure. At least, unlike the more intelligent ones, he could be more certain that the loyalty he intended to drill into him would be real, not fake. He honestly didn’t think Alfred was capable of such a degree of acting, quite frankly. With the bandages changed, he helped Alfred to his feet. “Come along. You need to get changed.”

Alfred stood up, hissing in pain as he did. His wounds still hurt quite a bit and the idea of having a corset tied around them sounded even worse. At least this wedding wasn’t a real one, just a trick he kept telling himself. He would find a way off this ship eventually and then hopefully he could seek forgiveness.

“I would give you the dress now,” said Arthur, making conversation on the way up the stairs, “but alas, it’s bad luck for me to see you dressed up before the wedding. On a ship like this, bad luck is something we can do without.” He wanted to push his luck. He wanted Alfred to snap at him again, and insist he was a man, just for an excuse to put him down and show him otherwise. There was a reason he found religious men so entertaining; their belief in their innate superiority was their own undoing, to the point where forcing them to do ladylike tasks and wear feminine clothing was enough to break down their sense of self-worth.

“I’m not a woman!” Alfred snapped, as if doing exactly what Arthur had wanted. He couldn’t wear a dress! Men who dressed like women were evil, they were going to Hell. Alfred didn’t want to go to Hell, although he supposed he already was considering everything that had happened so far.

Arthur grinned, and shoved Alfred up against the steep stairs so his wounded back was pressed against the edge of the steps, and his hands were wrapped around his throat. “Did you not hear me? I suppose not,” he said, leaning in closer to his ear. “I told you not a moment ago that if I say you’re a dog, you bark. Or do you want to taste the whip again? I can run it right across that foul tongue of yours, if you’d like.”

In Alfred’s defense he hadn’t heard the dog part earlier, his ears still recovering from being boxed. He coughed a bit as Arthur’s hands were forced around his neck, cutting off his supply of oxygen. He nodded the best he could, unable to really talk at the moment.

At last, Arthur released him, and he pulled him by the hand to his feet. “Good lass,” he said, a smile on his face. “Up we go.” He continued up the stairs and pushed open the hatch overhead. “Behave yourself, and maybe I’ll give you a sip of rum to numb the pain.” He took Alfred by the arm to aid him up the final few steps, where a couple men stood laughing under their breath. In the hands of one was a long purple dress, a pinnacle of luxury for its rare and difficult-to-acquire dye.

Alfred could feel a few tears run down his face as he saw the dress. It wasn’t the fanciest but it was nicer than what most of the women he knew wore. It was even worse considering Arthur’s crew was there, laughing at him.

“Smith,” said Arthur, addressing the man with the dress. “Go. See to it that he’s ready to be wed.”

The pirate known only as Smith nodded. “Aye, captain!” he answered, cackling so hard that there were tears in his eyes. He took Alfred by the shoulder and pulled him away from the crowd, in the direction of the stairs leading down to the hammocks where the majority of the crew slept.

“W-Wait,” Alfred screamed, suddenly being yanked away by one of the crew members. Why did the crew need to prepare him? He didn’t want to be seen by everyone! The laughter only made it worse, Alfred unable to help himself as he started to cry.

Out of sight of Arthur, the pirate Smith unfolded the dress, revealing a corset beneath it. It was the first item to go on, and one of the men held Alfred still while he wrapped it around his body and pulled the strings.

“Such a pretty little girl, you are,” said one of the pirates, giving him a slap on the rear. “A shame you’re taken.”

“Don’t worry. The captain always makes sure to share his trophies when he’s not using them…”

Alfred yelped at the slap, glad that the men had at least not tied the corset too tight, although it still hurt against his wounds on his back. “N-Not a girl,” he kept insisting, knowing they were just trying to upset him. Still, it was working, a few sobs escaping his throat as he reached up to wipe his tears away.

“Put these on,” ordered one of the pirates, a pair of bloomers in his arms. “Then raise your arms.”

As encouragement to cover himself as quickly as possible, one of them grabbed Alfred’s bottom and squeezed, pressing their lips to his cheek. “Impossible. Only a lady could be as weak and pathetic as you.”

“Sh-Shut up!” Alfred snapped, pushing himself away from the man before quickly slipping the bloomers on the best he could with his injuries and all. Sure it was women’s clothing but at least now he was covered up. “Like any of you are real men anyways. No real men would act in such a way.”

“Ooh, a feisty one,” said one of the pirates, grinning ear to ear. “I know we aren’t allowed to kill him, but did the captain say a word about cutting up that lovely face of his?” He held up a rusty knife and pointed it in Alfred’s direction.

“Patience. You’ll have your chance soon enough. For now, though…” said the one called Smith. He slipped the dress on over Alfred’s head. “Where did you put that silver necklace? I think it suits the pretty maiden.”

Alfred flinched as he saw the knife, glad at least the crew was too scared of the pirate to harm him. He didn’t fight as the dress was slipped on, knowing it would be pointless anyways. It felt so strange to be wearing such clothing. “Just hurry up with all of this.”

The pirate behind him wrapped the necklace around his throat, and his arm around his chest. “Excuse me?” he said, quite clearly angered by the words. “I don’t believe that’s any way for a lady to talk to a man.” He pressed his gun to Alfred’s head and licked his cheek. “Don’t think for a second that we can’t hurt you just because we can’t cut you. You’re already soiled. Arthur won’t mind if we have a little fun before we take you up…”

Alfred cringed as he was licked, feeling the slimy organ drag along his cheek. The threats were enough to scare him into keeping quiet, Alfred having to bite his lower lip before he said anything else. Surely the pirates were just joking, Arthur was a scary man, there was no way they could disobey him.

The pirates practically dragged him back up, though they were careful not to ruin the dress; it was too valuable to soil so easily. By the time they reached the deck, the rest of the crew already stood in rows on either side, with Arthur and another man standing between them at the end. They shoved him towards the other end, in plain view of everyone present, and one of them seized his arm to escort him slowly towards to the groom.

Arthur really was going all out for this Alfred thought to himself, breathing heavily as he saw the pirate. He didn't even know the man's name and here they were getting fake married. Resisting was useless he knew, walking with the crew member who had his arm.

Arthur smiled and planted a kiss on the back of Alfred’s hand, as the pirate holding his arm let go to stand off to the side. Though not everyone present was quite as amused as he himself was, they weren’t about to pass up a chance to take a break from work to watch some random captive suffer. “I’m so glad you could make it, darling. That dress does look good on you.” He would have to find something cheaper in port and make it a regular thing. Maybe coupled with a bonnet.

Alfred looked away as his hand was kissed, a light blush on his cheeks. Just keep quiet and take it he kept telling himself, the pain in his back reminding him about what could happen if he acted up. The gazes from the crew members were only making him more nervous. Hopefully this would be quick, he wanted out of that corset.

“Dearly beloved,” began the man before them, as melodramatically as possible. “We are gathered here today in the sight of God, and in the face of this company, to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony…”

Arthur pulled Alfred close to him. For a moment, he wished that his toy was a bit shorter, so that he could place his newfound wife’s head against his chest. Only for a moment, though, because he quickly solved the problem of height by yanking Alfred downwards to do just that.

Alfred yelped as he was suddenly shoved down, his head being forced to rest against the pirates chest. The wedding even seemed real, but no, it was nothing God would be approving of. At least that way it could never be a real wedding.

The man droned on with his speech for several minutes more. “Through marriage, Arthur and Alfred make a commitment together to face their disappointments, embrace their dreams, realize their hopes, and accept each other’s failures…” It carried on, and on, seemingly without end, until at long last he reached the vows. All the while, Arthur stood patiently with Alfred in his arms. “Do you, Arthur, take Alfred to be your your wife, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony?” Notably, the parts about forsaking all others and any semblance of loyalty were omitted.

“I do,” answered Arthur.

“And do you, Alfred, take Arthur to be your husband, to live together after God’s ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart’s deepest devotion, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto him as long as you both shall live?”

Arthur stared straight into Alfred’s eyes, silently threatening him harm if he refused.

Well...at least Alfred now knew the man's name he told himself. He barely listened to the mock ceremony, only realizing it was time for his 'I do' when Arthur turned to glare at him. "I-I do..." he said rather nervously, not really having much of a choice in the matter. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife!” said the pirate presiding over the ceremony. “You may now kiss the bride!”

Arthur pulled Alfred down into his arms and pressed their lips together, as the rest of the sailors standing to watch all mockingly clapped their hands.

Alfred's eyes were screwed shut in disgust, tasting rum on the pirates lips as he was kissed. He didn't kiss back, he wouldn't. He wouldn't let Arthur or anyone else think he was enjoying this.

Although it bothered him that his ‘bride’ wasn’t returning the favor, Arthur released him even so. After all, they had a marriage to consummate. He could only hope that Alfred put up less of a struggle than the previous night. The posts at the head of his bed had been cracked by his squirming, so he didn’t want to have to tie him to them again. “Okay, then. Back to work, everyone.” There was a resulting groan of disappointment. “In honor of my new bride, you can all feel free to help yourselves to whatever is left of the rum once we make port.” That seemed to cheer them back up. There wasn’t much left, anyway; they would have to re-stock their alcohol stores soon. A lot of the men got a bit cranky when they didn’t get their fix.

Finally Arthur broke the kiss, Alfred reaching up to wipe his mouth with his arm. He was rather grateful the crew was being shooed away, although he couldn't say he was looking forward to what was next. It felt like such a mockery of what Alfred had been taught was a ceremony for God. As if properly securing his position in Hell.

With his arm locked with Alfred’s, Arthur began heading back to his quarters with Alfred by his side. There was work to be done, for certain, but that could wait. They already had a course plotted out, and as long as there were no deviations, they would be at the next port in a few days. “Are you prepared, my darling?”

"Not really," Alfred mumbled, arms crossed as he was dragged back into that dreaded room. He didn't want to experience that ever again. It had been too painful and too humiliating he wasn't sure if he could keep doing it without going crazy.

“Of course. I should be more understanding. What bride isn’t nervous on their wedding night?” said Arthur, closing the door behind them and locking it tightly. He never slept with the door open. It paid to be paranoid, especially when you were in charge of a band of back-stabbing murderers. He’d single-handedly stopped a mutiny, once, but that had been while he was awake. The best fencer, the best shot with a gun… Neither stood a chance when they were unconscious, and he was no exception.

Alfred could feel himself getting more anxious about the entire thing as the door was shut and locked. At least no one could walk in he figured, not that it mattered. He had already been humiliated in front of Arthur’s entire crew. “I’m not a bride,” he mumbled, not moving from his spot near the door.

Arthur beckoned for him to get closer. “Nonsense. Of course you are.” Briefly, he wondered just how ignorant Alfred was in sexual matters, and how far he would be able to take his lies in the name of messing with his poor, empty head. “After all, we held the ceremony, and you’ll be carrying my children.”

“I-I can’t have children, I’m a man!” Alfred sputtered, cheeks bright red as he heard that. Now that was just ridiculous. Only women had children, not men. “Don’t lie to me like that, I’m not stupid.”

A wise man had once told Arthur that you could sell almost any lie as long as you kept a straight face. “Well, not yet, you can’t. But if a man reaches orgasm on another man’s cock without having his own touched, he can get pregnant.” It was the stupidest, most bold-faced lie he’d ever told, and the odds of Alfred believing it were slim to none. Still, if nothing else, it was good for a laugh. He took Alfred by the arm and began tugging him towards the bed, without outright yanking him towards it.

No, that couldn’t be true. It was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. Although...a woman got pregnant when she had sex with a man. Could it really work that way for him? No, no it couldn’t. “Y-You’re lying,” he stuttered, stumbling forward as Arthur pulled him. “I’m not stupid.”

“Of course, your little Puritan family wouldn’t tell you that, would they?” sighed Arthur, as though he were genuinely disappointed by such ignorance. “You’d know if you’d ever left your little village, and sailed as far as I have.” Still standing, he began unbuttoning his coat, revealing the white ruffled shirt underneath. Tossing that aside, he began unbuttoning the shirt, too. Those were his good clothes, after all; sex was a sweaty affair, and he didn’t want them getting ruined.

Alfred averted his gaze as Arthur began to undress, arms crossed. “Cause it’s not true,” he muttered, trying not to let his fear show on his face. The pirate had to be lying but then again the man was very convincing and it was no lie that he was very sheltered.

“You poor thing. You really don’t know anything of the outside world, do you?” said Arthur, sliding his hand under Alfred’s chin to keep him from turning away. By then, both his coat and his shirt were sitting atop the desk. He was always so amused by those living in isolation from the rest of society. Communication with the world was a difficult thing, and as far as he could tell, it always would be. However, some groups were in smaller pockets than others, devoid of any semblance of common sense.

“No I don’t but I’ve never seen a man getting pregnant before either!” Alfred snapped, shaking his head free from Arthur’s grip. He had to keep denying it, then maybe the pirate would admit he was lying. Then again he hadn’t known anything about sex between two men, it was possible that the pirate was telling the truth… “So it’s not funny, stop it.”

“That’s because no one in your village has ever tried. After all, your holy book says it’s a sin. Why would they?” said Arthur, taking the tiny glimmer of self-doubt in Alfred’s eyes and running with it. He took Alfred’s whole face between his two palms - perhaps with a little more force than was necessary - and planted a light kiss on his lips. “Now remove your dress, my love.”

Alfred shivered at the kiss as well as the thought of getting pregnant. It was true, no one in his village was doing such sinful things. But the idea still sounded so ridiculous. “N-No…” he whimpered, trying to hold back the few tears that threatened to fall.

“No?” repeated Arthur, raising an eyebrow. Had Alfred already forgotten that he wasn’t in a position to deny him? He took both of Alfred’s hands, deciding that he would try to be gentle before he got forceful. After all, in the long-term, it was much more beneficial to have a happy sex slave than an unhappy one, especially when there were guns around. Not that Alfred would change his tune quickly, but with the right coaxing, perhaps one day he wouldn’t have to keep taking up space in the brig. “I can’t very well have you soiling such a beautiful dress, though. And it’s absolutely imperative that we consummate our new marriage. I would like my firstborn sooner rather than later.” In truth, he already had a firstborn, technically, and a really annoying one, at that, but he was pretty sure he’d lost the little brat back in Europe. ‘Peter’ was what the wench had called him.

Alfred knew he had better do what Arthur was saying, knowing the man could easily at any time go back on his promise and find his family and murder them all. He shook such thoughts out of his head, not wanting to think about his family, not now. Shakily he reached down and began to lift the dress, having a bit of trouble thanks to the corset and his injuries.

“Oh, my apologies! How rude of me to forget!” said Arthur, as though he were truly bothered by Alfred’s apparent pain. He reached down and assisted him in removing the dress, lifting it over his shoulders and carefully folding it up to put down in a place where it wouldn’t get damaged. They still had to find it a buyer, after all, and something with that sort of dye was worth its weight in gold. Even if the English colonies had fuck-all in terms of money, the Spanish had a nice little stash in the South.

Alfred was left in the bloomers and corset, shivering a bit as the dress was removed. Hopefully the corset would be too. Even if it wasn’t laced tightly it still stung against his wounds on his back, rubbing against them everytime he moved. 

Arthur stepped around behind Alfred and began untying the many strings of the corset. It would be quite entertaining to one day tighten it up to the point where Alfred struggled to breathe - especially during copulation - but for right then, his main priority was making sure that the bandages weren’t ruined, and that Alfred didn’t get blood all over his bed. As with his own clothes, he tossed the corset aside, and began to ‘help’ Alfred remove the bloomers.

Alfred sighed in relief as the corset was removed, hesitantly stepping out as Arthur slid the bloomers down. He could feel a few tears run down his cheeks, reaching up to wipe them away. He didn’t want to go through this again, knowing it would just hurt even more. 

“Oh, sssssh,” hushed Arthur, batting Alfred’s hands away from his face to wipe the tears away himself. “Come now, it’s not so bad. I thought you lot were into the whole ‘sex for reproduction’ thing.” Hopefully Alfred didn’t question where it would come out. All potential lies regarding that issue sounded incredibly unpleasant. “Now, down to the bed, darling.”

Alfred didn’t want to end up pregnant, that is if the pirate was even telling the truth. He couldn’t tell, the man was able to hold such a straight face it was impossible to figure out if he was lying or not. Slowly he got over and sat down on the bed, not yet lying down. 

Getting a little impatient, Arthur quickly removed both his trousers and pants alike. He wasn’t at all ashamed of his body, especially not in front of a young farmer from the colonies, of all people. Without further hesitation, he pushed Alfred down onto the bed and sat himself comfortably between his legs, the both of them bare and exposed.

Alfred flinched as he was pushed down onto the bed, glad at least that the injuries were bandaged up, even if it wasn’t done too well. He was feeling so humiliated, wanting to reach down and cover himself up despite the pirate having already seen him nude before.

“You’ve got quite a lovely body for a farmer, you know,” commented Arthur, tracing his fingers up Alfred’s surprisingly smooth skin. “Most of the farmers I’ve met had several more scars and calluses.” His age was no doubt a factor. Enough time to build muscle and toughen up the skin on the palms of his hands, but not enough to leave time for enough accidents to mangle his flesh in any significant way.

“Too bad I’m all scarred up now,” Alfred mumbled, shifting a bit to try and get more comfortable on his back. He didn’t want the pirate to compliment him, it disgusted him. He just wished Arthur would hurry up with it already, hating how the man was dragging things out.

“Whip marks are far more attractive than sickle-based injuries. Particularly on a lady,” he all but purred, pressing his lips to Alfred’s neck and sucking gently. He rubbed the head of his erection against Alfred’s entrance, but didn’t yet penetrate him. Not until he was a bit more excited. “Sort of like the difference between fat and pregnant. One is rather undesirable, unless you’re after the money, and the latter is quite cute.” He rubbed Alfred’s stomach, as though in anticipation. “Not everyone can make it work, but I think you’ll look just lovely with a baby inside of you.”

It was a lie, it had to be a lie he kept telling himself, cringing as he felt Arthur’s cock rub against his ass. He couldn’t help but whimper again at the sensation to his neck, hating how it sent chills up his spine.

The pirate made sure to take his time; if Alfred didn’t enjoy it, then - according to the logic in Arthur’s lie - he wouldn’t have been successfully ‘impregnated,’ and that would just ruin all the fun. He licked his neck, his face, and his chest, leaving trails of saliva all over his captive’s upper body.

Goosebumps rose on Alfred’s skin as he was licked, squirming as he felt the pirate’s tongue run across a nipple. His own cock was starting to get hard, his mind going back to what Arthur had mentioned earlier about getting pregnant. “S-Stop…” he sobbed, reaching up to drape an arm over his face.

“Don’t try telling me you don’t want it,” said Arthur, nipping his ear. “You were having so much fun the other day. Making you a man was obviously a mistake on God’s part. You would have made such a lovely lady.” There was something about offending people on religious grounds that really got him all hot and bothered, though he had absolutely no idea why. Perhaps it was just the feeling of violating something that they held near and dear to themselves.

“G-God doesn’t make mistakes!” Alfred snapped, trying to push Arthur’s head away from him. He knew Arthur was just trying to rile him up but it was working. The man really knowing what to say to upset him.

“Throughout an entire eternity of existence, one is bound to make the occasional error in judgment,” said Arthur, not really caring one way or another; he’d heard of many gods and creation myths in his travels, and paid them little heed. Whichever one happened to be correct, he was still damned, himself. He didn’t touch Alfred’s cock; that would spoil the game. In order to convince Alfred that he was pregnant, he would have to get him to reach his peak without taking the easy way out. To that end, he slipped two fingers into his captive’s tight rectum and began wiggling them about.

Alfred couldn’t help but let out a scream as he was suddenly penetrated. The pirate hadn’t bothered with slicking his fingers up, the penetration dry and painful. “H-Hurts…” he sobbed, muscles clenching down against the intruding fingers.

“Forgive me, love. You’re so ladylike that I forgot you don’t slick yourself up,” said Arthur teasingly, pulling his fingers out just long enough to spit into his hand and stick them back in, quite unceremoniously.

Alfred wasn’t quite sure what Arthur meant by that, not bothering to ask. He knew the pirate would just make fun of him or lie to him anyways. It still hurt even with the spit, Alfred trying to calm himself down and relax around the fingers.

Slowly, and as gently as he could, Arthur began to search for his little toy’s sweet spot, buried somewhere inside his fleshy abyss. He prided himself on his self-control, even has his hardened length demanded the warmth of Alfred’s confines. It would all be worth it when he had an experienced pet by his side, broken by harsh punishments and won over with affection. The human mind was a simple mechanism. One only had to push the right buttons to have it working their way.

"Ah..." Alfred suddenly gasped, cock twitching in pleasure as Arthur's fingers hit something inside of him, sending sparks of pleasure through his body. He hated how his body betrayed him, not understanding how he could be enjoying such a thing. 

“There we go. Proof that you were a mistake,” said Arthur victoriously, pushing on that spot with the first two fingers and taking the opportunity to slide in a third. “How else could you enjoy this so much?” It was difficult for the body not to betray itself when you were repressed to the point of being so completely unused to such pleasures; he found that those who masturbated regularly had a significantly higher resistance. By comparison, Alfred didn’t stand a chance.

Alfred had to keep reminding himself that Arthur was just saying such things to upset him, that he shouldn't listen to the pirate. It was hard though considering how much his body was enjoying it. God had already forsaken him, maybe it was true that he was a mistake. That must be why such terrible things were happening.

Arthur began to thrust his fingers in and out of Alfred’s abused entrance, prodding the same spot every time he did so. He wanted very much to just take his pet right then and there, especially with that adorably humiliated look on his face. Such despairing eyes were a beautiful sight to behold, lost and embarrassed. He’d always had a good eye for pets, at least in terms of their quality in bed. Not so much in their attitude, as evidenced by the fact that he’d lost every single one he’d ever captured up until that point. All of those times, it was either because they killed themselves, or got themselves killed.

"Ah, oh God," Alfred moaned, back arching in pleasure each time Arthur's fingers hit his prostate. He couldn't understand why it was suddenly feeling so good, assuming it was just his body betraying him more. His mind went back to what he was told before about getting pregnant, still unsure if it was true or not.

“Taking the Lord’s name in vain? I know you’ve already been forsaken, but that’s quite a turnaround,” said Arthur, just before he gave Alfred’s inner thigh a lick. It actually was sort of impressive. Perhaps he was making faster progress than he’d thought? The sexually repressed were always the most interesting.

Alfred hadn’t meant to do it! He hadn’t even realized it. It seemed so small of a sin though when compared to everything that had been happening. Even so he knew praying for forgiveness wouldn’t work. If he was to be forgiven God wouldn’t have abandoned him to this fate, to being a pirate’s slave.

Not that it mattered how Alfred felt. Regardless of his inner turmoil, Arthur was busying himself by trying to get him aroused. He doubted that he would have his new toy begging for him anytime soon - that would take much more training and conditioning - but getting him to start enjoying himself, if only physically, was certainly a start. He hitched both of Alfred’s legs onto one shoulder, holding them there with his free arm, and used the other hand to keep thrusting his fingers into his body.

Alfred bit down against his knuckles, trying to hold in any sounds that threatened to come out. His body was enjoying it so much it really did make him wonder if this was some predetermined fate, that there was nothing he could do about it. “Ah,” he gasped, Arthur’s fingers hitting his prostate with every few thrusts.

“There you go,” said Arthur, removing his fingers and trailing them along Alfred’s thighs. He moved one leg over to the opposite shoulder so that he was once again sitting between the both of them, and placed his cock at the colonist’s entrance. He couldn’t wait any longer. Alfred had had enough preparation. “Do you want it inside of you, my lovely whore?”

Alfred almost just blurted out a ‘no’, shutting his mouth and instead staying silent. Saying yes would be a lie but saying no would make Arthur angry. It was a lose-lose situation really. He couldn’t even help himself as he cringed a bit when Arthur rubbed his cock against his ass, trying to prepare himself for the pain he was about to be in.

Well, submission to his fate was close enough. Arthur plunged into him in one go, not even giving Alfred time to adjust before he started moving his hips. As far as he was concerned, he’d been very generous with the foreplay. Alfred had to get used to the feeling of being stretched, because he was going to be going through a lot of it. Especially when the crew finally got their turn with him. Most of them weren’t ordinarily interested in men, but it was amazing what months at sea without any sign of a woman could do to even the most adamant heterosexual male. Particularly pirates that didn’t really care one way or the other for the fate of their eternal souls.

Alfred couldn’t help but scream as he was penetrated, tears running down his cheeks as the pirate thrusted in and out. He felt like he was being ripped in two, especially since the pirate hadn’t even bothered to slick himself up beforehand. His mind felt hazy, using all of his concentration on trying to calm down and lessen the pain.

“You’re not very good at bearing with pain, are you?” sighed Arthur, deciding to slow down a bit. Damn it, he’d lost his self-control, there. What about the plan? If Alfred didn’t climax, it would be a setback not just for his training, but for that whole pregnancy thing. Sure, it would last for about a week, at the absolute maximum, but it was too funny to just leave be. “Surely you’ve felt worse pain than this before.” Alfred was in for a rude awakening regarding life on a pirate ship if he couldn’t even handle what little pain he was in right then. At some point, he would end up getting shot, stabbed, or beaten, either accidentally, or over the course of a battle. He wasn’t sure how good Alfred would be at fighting - his main reason for taking him aboard had been because he was attractive - but hopefully it would be enough to avoid getting himself killed if they were ever boarded.

Alfred really hadn’t dealt with that much pain in his life. The occasional farm animal attacking him or simple fighting with other boys but never anything this painful, aside from the whipping he had gotten the other day. At least Arthur had slowed down, giving him time to adjust around the girth inside of him.

Arthur could see that Alfred wasn’t exactly in a talkative mood, so he decided that perhaps his own lips would be better used making his pet feel better. He slid his tongue over Alfred’s neck, the hickey he’d left the other day having faded. That wouldn’t do at all. Immediately, he began nibbling all over both sides of Alfred’s neck and shoulder, determined to leave his fair share of bite marks to remind the colonial teen just who he belonged to.

Arthur’s tongue felt so gentle compared to the pain he was feeling in his lower body, a low groan even escaping his throat. His cock was getting hard again, having gone soft when he had been penetrated. 

“You’ll learn to like the pain,” murmured Arthur into Alfred’s ear, giving it a quick bite. “I used to hate it too, you know. But now? There’s nothing more thrilling than the feeling of a blade slicing your arm open in battle, or a bullet tearing through your leg. It makes you feel alive… It makes you feel invincible…” Uhg, he was getting all sorts of wondrous mental images of Alfred covered in his own blood. If he didn’t stop, he would end up killing yet another pet, and having to go find a new one in some other port was such a hassle.

Alfred couldn’t understand how anyone could enjoy being in pain, wondering if Arthur was just lying to him again. Although it wasn’t that crazy for someone like him to enjoy such things but for him to enjoy pain? That would never happen. He was starting to relax around the pirate’s cock, the pain slowly dying down as pleasure slowly built up inside his body. 

Oh, it was almost too much. As much as he prided himself on his self-control, it all sort of went out the window in the bedroom. It took all of Arthur’s restraint not to pin Alfred’s hands down with knives; the last thing he wanted was to have to amputate limbs, at least so early on. He wanted Alfred’s hands pumping his cock at some point, and that was a bit difficult with gangrene-induced stumps. Instead, Arthur opted to continue biting into various parts of Alfred’s upper body, from his neck, to his shoulders, to the pink nipples on his chest.

A bit of precum leaked from Alfred’s cock, again thinking of Arthur’s words about getting pregnant, wondering if it was true. “Ah…” he moaned out loudly, his nipples gently toyed with by the pirate. He hoped it would be over soon, he just wanted to roll over and go to sleep, too exhausted from everything that had happened.

“There we go, you do like it, don’t you?” said Arthur triumphantly. He swirled his tongue around Alfred’s nipples and sucked gently on the both of them; first one, then the other, then back to the first again. If he could just hit that one spot inside of him to really make him feel good, then it would be easier to get him to reach his peak. “Mmm, such a good wife, you are. I might let you sleep with me, later on in the pregnancy.” He wasn’t letting Alfred near his prone form until he was completely sure that he’d been thoroughly broken and brainwashed. He’d been through one attempted murder too many.

Alfred couldn’t help but moan even more, his chest feeling rather sensitive as the pirate toyed with it. The bed did sound nice, although sleeping with Arthur didn’t. The floor in the brig wasn’t very comfortable and thanks to his wounds sleeping in a hammock wouldn’t work.

Arthur used his hands to hold Alfred’s hips firmly in place, then pressed their lips together in a quick kiss. “Your face is such a lovely shade of red. It’s a good look for you,” he said, trying to distract himself in an effort to put off his own orgasm. There was no way he could finish before Alfred. It had been humiliating enough the one time with that French bastard. To think he’d actually allowed that fucking frog to touch him… No, he’d grown since that awful experience all those years ago. No one bested him anymore. He was a force to be reckoned with, and one day, all would know Arthur Kirkland as the king of the sea.

Alfred wiped a few tears away, feeling even more embarrassed as the pirate said that. He could feel pleasure building up inside of him, scaring him and making him wonder if he really would reach orgasm without being touched.

Arthur began to stroke Alfred’s belly, going the extra mile to angle himself in a way that would have his toy as pleasured as possible. He wanted to talk more, b he wasn’t exactly in a state where he could do that. As it was, it was taking everything he had not to wrap his hands around Alfred’s neck to see how cute he looked when he face turned blue.

“Oh, ah…” Alfred gasped, Arthur’s cock now occasionally hitting his prostate. It felt so good now despite the pain, Alfred wondering if he too would turn out like the pirate, to enjoy pain like he did. He could feel himself getting closer to orgasm, Arthur’s cock pressing against his prostate with almost every thrust now.

“That’s right,” Arthur managed to say, sweat dripping down his brow. “Moan for me as I fill you up.” He returned to sucking on Alfred’s neck, wanting to make absolutely sure that his pet finished before he did. Otherwise he wouldn’t be able to lie about him getting pregnant, at least not until the next time they had a chance to copulate.

Alfred couldn’t help himself, back arching off the bed and a loud moan escaping his throat as he came, his own cum splattering against his stomach. His mind was too hazy to worry about what the pirate had said, the pain starting to come back now that he had finished.

When he felt Alfred’s sperm hit his stomach, Arthur quickened his pace, until he, too, had spilled his seed deep inside of the colonist’s body. He gritted his teeth as the pleasure reached its peak, not wanting to repeat the mistake he’d made when he accidentally ripped someone’s neck open. That had been a messy little debacle.

Again Alfred could only cringe as he felt the other come inside of him, left feeling disgusted and humiliated. If only he could bathe, then he could wash it all out and for sure not be pregnant, that is if the pirate was even telling the truth.

Slowly, Arthur pulled out, and white droplets dribbled out shortly after. “Good lad. That’ll do the job. If that’s not enough to impregnate you, I’d be quite surprised.” Well, no he wouldn’t be, but he wasn’t about to say that. He was a gentleman, for certain, and he had a certain code of honor. It was still the code of honor of a pirate, though, which, actually, sort of killed it.

Alfred reached up to cover his face, not wanting the other to see him crying more. It was a lie he kept telling himself, becoming more and more unsure of it each time it was brought up. 

“Oh, hush. There’s no need to be upset. Good wives give their husbands lots of children. You’re doing an excellent job,” said Arthur, patting Alfred on the head and kissing his forehead. Such a crybaby. Sure, he’d just been kidnapped, violated, whipped, violated again, and was continuously being threatened with the death of his parents, but that was hardly reason to break down.

Alfred turned over onto his side, trying to hide his face from Arthur. He just wanted to be left alone, to be taken back to the brig so he could sleep and forget that any of this had ever happened. Maybe even form another escape attempt, after all the ship would have to dock sometime.

“There, there,” said Arthur, looking around for some rags to clean them both up. Unfortunately, none seemed to be present right then. Ah, well. Alfred would be able to rinse off with a bit of seawater. “There are a couple dresses sitting around that you can wear tomorrow. Behave yourself, and I might let you up on the dock.” Under strict supervision, of course; preferably his own. The men knew the routine by then. Unless something went wrong, they didn’t need him hovering over their shoulders. His presence would be enough to keep them in their place.

Dresses sounded terrible but it was at least better than having to walk around completely nude. He wasn’t sure if he wanted up on dock though, knowing he’d just be laughed at and taunted by Arthur’s crew members. “Can I get to sleep now?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Very well. I’ll take you back to your cell. I’ll even make sure you get an extra pile of rags and blankets. You’re taking care of two, now, so I want you to be careful.” Quite frankly, rags were probably more comfortable than the hammocks most of the crew got stuck with. If anything, Alfred was doing fairly well for himself, considering that life on a ship wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

Alfred slowly stood up, shivering as cum ran down between his thighs. Extra rags sounded nice, the hard floor hurting his back a bit when he had slept on it. He only hoped that he would be left alone for awhile in the brig but he knew that come tomorrow the pirate would be back to torment him further.

“Easy, now. Let me clean you up. This rug came all the way from the Orient, and I can’t have you dripping all over it,” said Arthur firmly. Surely there was something he could use. He glanced around for a bit, then shrugged his shoulders. Oh well. He was a pirate; he could get better clothes any time he so desired. That rug, though… That would require a return trip to Asia. The men were tolerant of many things, but not crossing the entire ocean because their captain needed to pick up some frivolities. He picked up the white shirt he’d been wearing for the wedding and used it like a rag to clean them both up.

Alfred obediently let the pirate clean him, glad at least the cum splattered on him was being wiped away. The fear of pregnancy still lingered in his mind, doing his best not to think about it, at least not now. He would just have to wait and see what happened.

Arthur set the then-ruined shirt aside to put his trousers on, leaving him topless. As for Alfred, he took his coat and put it over his shoulders to cover him up. There was no need to have him walk the ship bare in such a state, especially when he hadn’t done anything to warrant a punishment. “You’ve made a lot of progress, considering we’ve only just set off,” he mused. Indeed, the ship had begun to rock even more so than it had been doing earlier, a sure sign that the anchor was up, and they were on their way out to sea.

Alfred just hoped they would reach land soon. Surely there was some way he could escape when they did. He pulled the coat to cover himself more, thankful at least that the pirate was showing some mercy.

“It’s not fitting for a lady to be out and about without clothes on,” said Arthur, smiling cockily. “Yesterday it was fine, since you were a man. But now that you’re my wife, I expect some decency from you.” Until he had to be punished again, anyway.

Well...being clothed was nice although being called a woman still bothered Alfred. He followed Arthur up onto the deck, glad to at least be left alone for now. The brig wasn't the best place to sleep but he'd take it over sleeping with the crew any day.

At last, they reached the stairs, after weaving through the numerous sailors working aboard the ship. Most kept themselves busy. A few turned to look at them, dipping their heads respectfully as Arthur passed. They understood how things were run. They knew what would happen if they disobeyed his commands. Arthur led Alfred back to his cell without incident, and locked the door behind him. “If you keep up the good work, there might be some fish in it for you, instead of just hardtack.”

Alfred walked in, sitting himself down on the rags he had been given. Fish sounded wonderful, so did water too. "May I have some water?" He dared to ask, hoping it wouldn't upset the other. He was just so thirsty from all of his screaming and crying.

“Of course,” answered Arthur, bringing his arm up behind his back and assuming a more civilized posture, despite the fact that he still lacked any sort of a shirt. “The next port isn’t far, so there’s no need to cut rations. Feel free to have all the water you can drink.” It wouldn’t always be like that. Once they’d finished unloading their loot, they would be off on the high seas to obtain more wares. The English colonies were barely a pit stop. It was the Spanish that had all of the gold, and from what his spies had reported, they were scheduled to send a ship back to Europe in just a few short months. That meant it was best to start heading south, if they hoped to intercept it before those damned privateers.

Alfred was relieved to hear that, both about the water and about docking. He would need an escape plan, maybe somehow convince the pirate to bring him on land. "Thanks," he said, voice hoarse. He didn't even care where the ship was docked, just as long as he could escape and find help.

“There’s no need to thank me. I’m your husband, after all. Besides, I can’t let the baby suffer,” said Arthur, hanging the keys up far out of Alfred’s reach. “You’re eating for two now. You need the very best I can provide.” He stepped away from the cell and waved. “Sleep well. Or not; it’s still early.” Not that it was easy to tell from inside. It was dark, and there were no holes to see into the outside world.

Alfred sighed, rubbing his eyes as he yawned. He was very tired and sleeping was certainly better than being awake. He surely couldn't be pregnant though, wasn't it too early to tell? He seemed to remember his own mother teaching him such things, although her explanation had been rather vague.


	4. Chapter 4

Footsteps resounded throughout the room as Arthur descended down the steps to the cell where Alfred was being held. He hadn’t gotten word of any misbehavior, and from what he understood, the colonial seemed to be in decent shape, given the number of lashes he’d received. As expected, the young recovered quickly, though he certainly wasn’t close to being completely healed. Even so, Arthur didn’t intend to let his guard down, even as he allowed Alfred a chance to stretch his legs on deck.

Alfred had slept in Arthur's coat, keeping him warm. Before he had fallen asleep the night before however he had felt something in one of the pockets, realizing that the prate must have left a dagger in there by accident. It could be another trick he knew but a weapon was a weapon and he was going to take advantage of it. He kept it in his pocket, sitting up and rubbing his eyes as Arthur walked in.

“I’m sorry to have woken you,” said Arthur, though his tone didn’t sound particularly apologetic. He took the key ring off of its hook and went to unlock Alfred’s cell. Really, Alfred ought to have been feeling grateful, in his opinion. It wasn’t often that Arthur extended such kindness to his prisoners. “Did you sleep well, my little lamb?” He’d since acquired a different shirt, though it wasn’t quite as fancy as the one he’d used to wipe semen up from between Alfred’s legs. Well, at the end of the day, it wasn’t his only good shirt, even if it had been one of his favorites.

"I guess," Alfred yawned, rubbing his eyes some more. He would need to keep calm if this plan had any chance of working. Slowly he stood up, hissing in pain as his back and ass stung. All he needed was Arthur to get close to him. "I'm in a lot of pain though."

Arthur took him by the hand and pressed his lips to Alfred’s fingers. “I’d never have guessed. You’re looking quite fetching this morning.” Or perhaps that was just because he was attracted to limping. It was hard to tell sometimes. There was a fair amount of distance between them as Arthur guided Alfred out the door. “As it turns out, one of the men spilled raw fish all over your dress. I can assure you that their back is currently much worse off than yours right now. I hope you don’t mind walking about in that coat just a little longer, until we can get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” Alfred said, sticking his hand into the pocket where the small dagger was. He leaned in closer to the pirate now. “I feel weak,” he said, hoping it would be a good enough excuse. He wrapped his fingers around the handle of the dagger, suddenly pulling it out and slashing at the pirate.

Arthur was admittedly taken by surprise; unfortunately for Alfred, being so forward had immediately been a cause for suspicion, and it quickly came together when he saw the knife. Even as he ducked out of the way, it sliced through his cheek; he managed to tip his head back just far enough to keep it away from his eyes. He cursed himself for forgetting the blade in his pocket; he never slipped up like that. In fact, he couldn’t even remember putting it in there to begin with! Was it possible that someone had planted it there, knowing he would use it to cover Alfred up? Was he dealing with an indirect attempt on his life by one of his own men? His eyes narrow, Arthur grabbed Alfred by his thumb and yanked it downwards, peeling his hand off of the handle so as to snatch it away. To think, it had seemed like such a nice day…

Alfred screamed as his thumb was pulled back, the pirate pulling the dagger out of his hand. He desperately tried to reach for it with his free hand, too weak to break free of Arthur’s grip. Regret immediately washed over him, knowing that his punishment would be a lot worse than just a whipping.

“And I was trying so very hard to be a good host,” sighed Arthur, as though more disappointed than angered. Truth be told, he was beyond pissed off, but it wouldn’t do to lose his temper, as he’d been known to do when he had a bit too much rum to drink. People responded better to composed punishments. Even if it was logically probably justified for Alfred to attempt to murder his kidnapper and rapist, there was something about the mind that caused people to feel worse about their actions if you spoke calmly. He shoved Alfred up against the wall and pointed the blade straight at his chest. “How foolish of you. Have you already forgotten who you’re dealing with, just three days in?”

Why had he even tried such a useless attempt at escaping? Alfred could only scream again as he was shoved against the wall, sure that a few of his wounds were reopening. He opened his mouth to utter an apology but he wasn’t sure what to say. Nothing would make the pirate any less angry at him.

Arthur wasn’t done yet. He kept his voice down, like a parent scolding a child, choosing instead to demonstrate his anger through his physical actions. “Did you even think this ridiculous plot through? What did you intend to do once you’d killed me?” he asked, lifting a single one of his large eyebrows. “Fight your way through my entire crew? Commandeer a boat? Row back home?” Even his previous captives had possessed the foresight to wait until they were in port before they tried to escape. “I could never be killed by one as empty-headed as you.” The blade he was holding up against Alfred’s chest was beginning to draw a small amount of blood.

Alfred hissed as the blade broke skin, a bit of blood starting to run down his chest. He hadn’t thought the plan through, he should have waited at least until they were in port. “I-I’m sorry,” he whimpered, knowing it was useless to even apologize.

“Of course you’re sorry,” said Arthur, his frown turning into a smirk. “You were caught.” He would have to be punished. Arthur yanked the coat off of Alfred’s shoulders. He had just the thing in mind. But first, he would scare him a little. “And for your transgression, you must pay the ultimate price!” He raised his arm, aiming the knife at Alfred’s heart, and keeping him pinned to the wall by the neck.

Tears began to fall down Alfred’s cheeks as he saw the knife, unable to say anything with the other’s hand wrapped around his neck, blocking off his supply of oxygen as well. He should never have tried to escape, at least not now. He hated how impulsive he was, never thinking things through.

“But I’m a sporting fellow,” Arthur continued, smiling maliciously. “So I’ll give you one chance to convince me that you’re worth keeping alive. Give me one reason that I shouldn’t cut out your heart and feed your corpse to the sharks.” He loved the look of fear in their eyes, as all the hope was drained from their souls. It was such a beautiful thing, greater than any fine art.

Alfred honestly wasn’t sure how to answer, trying to think of something, anything. “B-Because...I’m your wife,” he muttered, hating those words but it was all he could think of.

So he wasn’t quite as dimwitted as he’d made himself out to be. “Good boy. I suppose I can’t go killing the mother of my child, at least while you’re still pregnant.” He wasn’t going to let that go. Not until Alfred finally figured it out. Briefly, he wondered if it would be practical to try to fatten him up to keep it going on even longer, but that wasn’t very practical. Not when he had a whole crew to feed. “But I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Alfred sighed in relief at that, not wanting to die just yet. Still, he wondered what the pirate would do to him now. Another whipping? His old wounds weren’t healed yet, if he was whipped again he’d probably lose too much blood.

Arthur thought for a moment about how many of his men he could spare, and how many would actually want to participate. He was certain he could get at least ten or so to assist him with Alfred’s punishment, if not more who just wanted to take a break from working. It wasn’t world-ending if they had to anchor the ship; they weren’t terribly far from land. “Come along with me.”

“Wh-Where are you taking me?” Alfred asked, not bothering to resist as he walked along behind Arthur. Fighting back would only make his punishment worse after all. As they headed above on deck he was certain he would be getting the whip again, reaching up to wipe a few tears away.

Arthur didn’t respond. Instead, he guided Alfred up onto deck, without any form of clothing, and shoved him out into the open where most of the crew was either busy keeping watch, cleaning, sailing the ship, or taking a brief respite. Being a gentleman, Arthur didn’t shout to get their attention. Instead, he merely raised his pistol, and fired it into the air.

Alfred flinched as he heard the gunshot, not used to such loud noises like that. He reached down to cover his vital regions, fear rising in him as he started to get an idea of what was about to happen. He remembered the crew members saying that Arthur would let them have their way with him. Thinking about it only made him want the whip instead.

“Listen up,” said Arthur as all heads turned to his direction. “It seems that my wife has seen fit to make an attempt on my life with a blade that ended up in my coat.” There it was. In the back. He could see the glimmer of disappointment in the eyes of two or three, apparently not having expected that he would survive the ordeal. “A knife that I didn’t put there. However, the matter of which of you will be punished for mutiny shall be postponed, pending an investigation. For now, all those of whom would like to volunteer for my wife’s punishment should report to the bow immediately. Those that aren’t interested may take turns keeping watch and taking a break. The rum stores will be open, but be aware that anyone found drinking themselves to the point where they can no longer work properly will have their pay docked.”

Alfred’s suspicions were right as he listened to Arthur talk. There was nothing he could do either, surrounded by ocean on all sides of the ship and a crew who would do nothing to help him. “Please! Don’t do this,” he sobbed, turning to look at the pirate. Doing such sinful things with one person was enough, but the entire crew? He wasn’t sure he could handle it.

“Quiet,” snapped Arthur, reaching up to seize Alfred by the hair. It hardly mattered that he was, admittedly, the shorter of the two. Alfred may have been feisty, but he was inexperienced. “Would you rather I execute you for attempted murder, little lamb?”

Already, the men were lowering the anchor. Thankfully, the weather was good, and the seas calm, though they would be prepared to postpone Alfred’s punishment if things went south. Most of them rushed down to get their fair share of alcohol. A few of the more experienced men chose to take the first watch, unwilling to be hanged because they passed out when it was their turn. A smaller handful of about twelve men followed Arthur and Alfred to the front of the ship; there wasn’t enough space to do such a thing inside, after all. Not with all of them at once.

Alfred obediently walked with Arthur, not that he had much of a choice. He could see some crew members following them, noticing just how many were coming. He felt like throwing up partly due to fear and partly over thinking about what was about to happen. He still hurt from the night before, knowing that after this he would be in even way more pain.

“Honestly, I’m surprised your morals were lenient enough to allow you to try to kill me,” said Arthur casually, running the flat of the blade against his hand and pressing his fingers to the cut in his cheek, the blood having begun to run down his face. It stung a little, but he’d suffered far worse. Once you’d been impaled a couple of times, tiny little cuts were nothing. If anything, it was more embarrassing that the first injury in six months had been inflicted by an untrained, unskilled prisoner. If a gun had been in that coat… He was already formulating ways to punish the perpetrators. They would die for their errors. He could let Alfred off lightly; he was still new, and was there against his will. Such things were to be expected. But he couldn’t allow people that were out and about, working his ship and getting paid to do so plotting against him. Notably, he saw none of the guilty-looking party from before in the group. While Alfred was being taken care of, he would confront them. If they could survive losing a few toes, and maybe their genitalia, and could somehow make it back to shore after they were dumped overboard, they would be free to go. He was a sporting fellow, after all.

Alfred kept his gaze down, too frightened to look at the pirate or the several crew members in front of him. He couldn’t help himself as he started to sob, shoulders trembling and hands covering his vital regions. 

“Can’t even be bothered to respond? That’s fine. A good wife knows when to hold her tongue,” said Arthur, putting the blade in his pocket. As much as he wanted to watch, he had business to take care of. He would come back once the traitors were dealt with. With the group gathered, he turned to look at them and began to speak. “I don’t want him dead, is that clear? If one of you kills him, intentionally or by mistake, I’ll dull my blade and use it to cut your balls off. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” said several voices in unison, and he could see already that a few were regretting their decision to join in.

“Good. Aside from that, don’t hold back.”

Alfred felt like throwing up, not even looking at the men as they began to near him. He hated how he had to be so impulsive and attack Arthur like that. He should have waited until they were docked and just tried to run off. He hiccuped, his sobs getting louder. Hopefully it would be over soon.

The first to grab him was one of the younger, more impulsive men, who didn’t appear to be that much older than Alfred. “I don’t really get what the captain sees in him,” he muttered, having seized Alfred’s face to look him over, as though we were inspecting a horse. “He’s too old to be able to pass off as a woman. Not from in front, and not from behind.”

“You should have had your fill when we were back in port,” said one of the older ones, who seemed to be in his mid-thirties. “You can’t bring a real woman into battle on a ship. Bad luck, that.”

Alfred tried to shake his head free of the man’s grip, turning his head to the side. His entire body was trembling as he sobbed, unable to even voice any begging. Hopefully they wouldn’t hurt him too badly, he couldn’t stand to be in much more pain.

“Don’t try escaping!” said the pirate, letting go only to strike him across the face. “I commend you for having the courage to make an attempt on the captain’s life, but you’ll soon know all too well why nobody ever stages a mutiny on this ship.”

The older pirate grabbed him in a bear hug from behind. “Well, I was on-duty during the raid, so I’m going to make do with what we have.” He wasn’t quite as ‘intimate’ as Arthur, if it could be called that; there wasn’t any kissing, or licking, or biting. He simply dragged Alfred down to the wooden floor and pinned him there, face-down.

Alfred hadn’t been expecting to be shoved down, screaming as he slammed against the hard wood floor. He weakly struggled to break his arms free from the other’s grip, knowing it was pointless. Even if he broke free he wouldn’t be able to escape.

“You may as well stop squirming,” mused one of the men, kneeling down beside him and lowering his trousers. He had a colonial accent like Alfred’s, instead of a mainland one like the others. “You’re not doing yourself any favors.” If nothing else, Arthur’s crew was diverse. “Where do you think you’re going to run? Struggling will just make it worse.”

“Oh, but that’s half the fun!” said another, grabbing him by the shoulders. The one pinning Alfred down got off, allowing the other to slip underneath him so that they were chest to chest, with Alfred straddling his waist.

“You’re going to look at him from the front while we do this?”

“A hole’s a hole. I don’t particularly care whose it is.”

It felt awkward to have someone underneath him, his hands on the man’s chest as he held himself up a bit. “Wh-What are you..?” he cut off, unable to hold back his sobbing. It was so humiliating, the other crew members around them were laughing at him too, that or pulling out their hard cocks.

The pirate beneath him pressed his erection to Alfred’s hole, then moved his hands to Alfred’s hips to keep him in place. “Go on. Put it in like a good whore, if you don’t want a beating.” One of the others was already stroking himself to hardness; whether or not it was clear to Alfred, they didn’t exactly intend to take turns.

Alfred flinched, his body shying away from the man’s cock. He was still so sore, and being penetrated dryly again would most likely tear him. “P-Please don’t,” he whimpered, tears streaking down his face, a few landing on the man’s chest underneath him.

“Either do it yourself, or this will be even worse for you!” said one of the men behind him, grabbing him by the hair to pull his head back. “I wonder how many can fit inside of you at once…”

One of the men who hadn’t spoken up since they began choice that moment to say something. “Actually, I don’t think you can fit more than two, if only because there wouldn’t be space for another person’s body to-”

One of the others whacked him. “It’s a threat! You’re not supposed to take it that seriously!”

“...Right, sorry.”

Wait, two? He was going to have two of the men inside of him at the same time? Was that even possible? Just one hurt enough already he couldn’t even begin to imagine how two would feel. “Th-They won’t fit!” he shouted out desperately, unable to bring himself down onto the other’s cock.

“Too slow,” sighed the pirate beneath him. He pulled down on Alfred’s hips, forcing it in dry, and leaned back against the deck with a satisfied sigh. “There we go…” It was fun to hear them whine and complain. There was no doubt in his mind that Alfred would be dead by the end of the year, either because he screwed up when Arthur was in a bad mood, or because Arthur accidentally killed him with all of his implements of torture.

Alfred’s eyes shot open in pain as he was penetrated, being forced all the way down until he had all of the man’s cock inside of him. It hurt about as much as it did last night, although his ass was still rather sore.

“Good, now ride it like you’d ride a horse,” ordered the man he was seated on top of. “You know how to ride, don’t you? Or did your papa not want your delicate lady-bits getting damaged?” The others laughed, even though it wasn’t really that funny. The man tried moving Alfred’s hips upwards, urging him to start bouncing.

Yes, Alfred had ridden horses before, although he couldn’t really say much in his current state. Slowly he moved his hips up as he was directed, the friction burning his insides. All he could do was let the man guide his hips, using his own hands to brace himself on the other’s chest.

A couple people clapped their hands and continued laughing, as though they were at the theatre to watch a play. The man behind Alfred was getting into position, though he waited a few minutes before he actually motioned for the man on the ground to stop Alfred’s movement so he could position himself.

Alfred felt himself suddenly stop moving, his hips pulled up so that he was only about halfway down on the man’s cock now. He opened his eyes again as he felt something nudge at his entrance.”N-No, no please no,” he sobbed, tears falling down onto the man’s chest below him.

“I’ve killed hundreds of people that begged like you are right now,” said the man behind him, grinning sadistically. “Do you honestly think it’ll do any good to beg for mercy over something as small as this?”

The same one that had gotten whacked earlier piped up again. “Hundreds? I don’t think your kill count is that hi-” He was interrupted by the back of someone’s hand meeting his face.

The spat going on behind him probably would have amused Alfred if not for his predicament. Instead of he just wished that they’d shut up and get on with it instead of delaying the inevitable. Or they could knock each other out and he could be free from this punishment, although he knew that wasn’t going to happen.

The second pirate, with his cock pressed against Alfred’s already-stretched hole, began to press in. Or, rather, he attempted to. It wasn’t going so well. Try as he did to fit it in, it was impossible for him to submerge even the tip.

“What are you doing? Get on with it!” said the pirate on the deck, eager to get moving again.

“I’m trying! It won’t fit!” said the second, clearly somewhat frustrated. “Usually they’re a bit looser by the time Arthur is willing to let anyone else have a turn…”

“I told you it wouldn’t fit!” Alfred screamed, getting rather angry at the pirate kept unsuccessfully trying to penetrate him. He had only been on the ship for a few days how loose were they expecting him to be?

“It’s because you’re going in dry, you idiot!” snapped the pirate on the ground. “Hang on, get him to suck on it first.”

“Good idea,” agreed the second pirate, standing up and walking around to place the tip of his cock at Alfred’s lips. Sweat dripped down from his brow onto Alfred, an unfortunate effect of both the hard work and the hot sun.

Alfred obediently opened his mouth, taking in the man’s cock. It tasted terrible, probably a side affect of them being at sea most of the time. He was probably rather disgusting too he figured, knowing he hadn’t bathed since Arthur had fucked him.

The pirate in Alfred’s mouth rolled his hips forward and sighed. “That is good. If only you had a prettier face,” he said, turning down to look at the young captive. He wasn’t ugly, or anything, but his face was quite blatantly masculine. He would never understand how their captain found such things attractive. Still, the feeling of power over another individual enticed him onwards, even if that individual was unquestionably male. Besides, it never got old to see all of Arthur’s poor conquests forced to walk about in women’s clothing.

Alfred gagged a bit, pulling his head back as the pirate thrusted in. If they all found him so ugly then why were they even doing this? He couldn’t understand it except that these men just enjoyed seeing him suffer.

“That’s enough, I think,” said the pirate, pulling himself out of Alfred’s mouth to go kneel behind him, placing his then-wettened cock at his pulsating hole once more. As he began to push, it was still a struggle. Just getting the head in took a lot of effort, even as the one who was already in pulled out slightly to help him.

Pain tore through Alfred’s entire body, his screams even louder than before. He felt like he was slowly being split in half, feeling a bit of blood trickle down between his thighs. Was he going to die? The pain was enough to make him think so.

“Quit screaming,” barked one of the men, coming up from the side. “For God’s sake, I’ve seen men get stabbed through the heart that cried less than you!”

“Maybe he really is a woman,” joked one of the men, and the rest of them laughed once more.

“Worse than that. We did this to dozens of the women back in his village, and even they weren’t this pathetic. His damned mother held up better than this.”

It took Alfred a minute to realize what the pirate had said, his eyes going wide in shock. “Y-You did what?” he screamed, craning his head to look at the man currently penetrating him from behind. Not to his own mother right? Arthur said his family would be spared! 

Technically, they had no way of knowing it was his mom, but the pirate had years of experience learning how to upset people. Blades and guns weren’t the only weapons; sometimes, words were far more damaging. “Yes, that’s right. I fucked your dear old mum, just like this. But in the end, she liked it, just like you will.”

The pirate from earlier that kept getting smacked looked a little appalled, as though even he thought that such a thing was going too far, but he kept his mouth shut that time.

“Y-You’re lying!” Alfred screamed, refusing to believe such a thing. He could never tell what was truth and what wasn’t with these people, starting to feel nauseous at the thought of his poor mother suffering like this.

“Wasn’t he there for it? I thought we fucked them both together,” said one of the men, a bit confused.

“That’s impossible. Arthur took him back to the ship before then.”

“But I could have sworn there was a woman and another person who looked just like him…”

The pirate behind Alfred grinned and pulled on his hair. “Really? I wonder if they were related…” He jerked his hips forward, moving in sync with the man below him.

Alfred grunted at the thrusting, more tears running down his face. The pirates had done this to his brother as well? He didn’t want to think about it, bile rising in his throat as he was unable to hold it back, a mix of stomach acid and the small amount of food Alfred had been given landing on the man’s chest beneath him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” screamed the man beneath Alfred, quite visibly pissed off. Most of the others began laughing, several practically in tears. “Get him off of me!”

The one behind Alfred groaned and pulled out, wrapping his arms around Alfred’s chest to keep him still and give the person that had been beneath him a chance to pull out and get out of the fray. “Someone pull up a bucket of water before he drips vomit all over the deck.”

“That little son of a bitch!” hissed the pirate covered in Alfred’s bodily fluids. He whipped a knife out of his pocket and pointed it at the captive’s throat. “I’ll kill you, you whore!”

“Take a deep breath, now… You don’t want the captain to cut your balls off over some whore’s vomit, do you?” said one of the other men quickly, trying to calm the man down through his own laughter.

Alfred was relieved at least as the two men pulled out, not even feeling bad for throwing up on the other. It was what he deserved really for saying and doing such things. “Y-You did such things to my mother and brother you monster!” he screamed at the pirate holding the blade to him, too angry to care about the fact that he could be killed at that very moment. He hoped it was a lie, that the pirates had just seen his family and they were making this up just to upset him.

“Obviously,” said the man behind him, rolling his eyes. “We’re pirates, not saints. What did you expect? The captain told us not to kill anyone, but that doesn’t mean we’re going to let them go.” One would almost think that screaming would somehow turn back time. “Now shut up, rinse your mouth out, and open wide!” He slammed his cock back into Alfred’s confines, and one of the other men reluctantly crawled beneath him to take up the position the person who’d been vomited on had freed up. At the same time, a pirate shoved a bucket of saltwater against Alfred’s lips to get him to rinse.

He held in his screaming as he was penetrated again, opening his mouth and eagerly accepting the salt water, even if it was disgusting. He swished it a bit before simply spitting onto the wood floor next to him, not caring much for manners at the moment. “A-Are they safe though?” Alfred asked, hoping that they were at least able to get away.

“Physically? Yes,” answered the new man below him, before someone else could lie and prompt Alfred to throw up again.

“Probably pregnant, though,” chuckled one of the others, only for the man on the deck to shoot them a death glare.

It wasn’t long before Alfred was once again filled by two cocks. The blood dripped down their sweaty sacks and fell to the deck below, which would no doubt require a thorough scrubbing after the whole thing was said and done.

Well...at least they were alive Alfred figured, wishing he could find them, apologize to them. He knew it wasn’t his fault but he still felt like it was. Had his family done something bad? They were good people. They went to church every week, had never done anything really bad. “Sh-Shut up,” he whimpered, not wanting to hear anymore about it.

The pirates thrust into his hot cavern, getting sweat and grease all over his body. Another one off to the side grabbed at Alfred’s hand and guided it up to his cock. “Start stroking, you slut,” he ordered, another coming over from the other side for the other hand, expecting the same treatment. Jeers and insults came from all sides, making fun of everything from him, to his family, and to his religion.

Alfred had a bit of a hard time holding himself up now that both of his hands were busy, clumsily stroking the other’s cocks. Their insults and laughter made the entire situation worse. He could have dealt with the physical pain, but their insults were getting to him, fresh tears falling down onto the pirate below him.

The pirate beneath him was a bit bothered by the tears, but he figured that they were better than vomit. No, the real problem was when someone decided to stand over him, facing Alfred, and giving him a perfect view of their hairy ass. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“Using his mouth, obviously,” said the man standing over him, pushing his cock up against Alfred’s mouth as the man from before had.

“What? No! Not from this angle! Stand off to the side!” said the pirate on the deck, eye twitching with frustration. “I’d rather look at his face than any part of you.”

Alfred parted his lips like before, taking in the head of the man’s cock. He didn’t go down any further, listening to the two of them argue with each other. It would probably have been rather amusing if not for his current situation.

The man standing over the one on the floor thrust into Alfred’s mouth, holding him by the back of the head all the while. Down below, the one stuck staring at his unpleasant behind - which was, unfortunately, beginning to drip sweat all over him - could only close his eyes and pretend he was alone with a beautiful prostitute. It was a bit difficult, considering the distinct feeling of somebody else’s cock rubbing against his.

Alfred coughed as the man's cock thrusted into his mouth, gagging a bit and hoping he wouldn't throw up again. The men would surely kill him if he did. If only he hadn't tried to stab Arthur, knowing it had been an incredibly stupid idea.

With Alfred’s ass, mouth, and hands in use, there didn’t seem to be anything else for the remaining men to use. One of them made a valiant effort to fit his cock in Alfred’s mouth with the other one - much to the disdain of the unfortunate pirate stuck with his back on the deck, staring at both of their misshapen bottoms - but found it too difficult to fit in the end. Instead, the majority opted to masturbate over his body, occasionally slapping him across the face with their genitalia for the sole sake of humiliating him.

Alfred’s mouth simply couldn’t open that wide for two cocks, the first one already stretching his mouth out. He kept his eyes screwed tightly shut, feeling flesh slapping him in the face and on other various parts of his body. He didn’t even realize that his cock was starting to get hard, feeling the men inside of him brush up against his prostate.

“Oh, you’ll never believe this!” said one of the men, pointing downwards at Alfred and laughing heartily. “He likes it! He actually likes it!”

“The captain certainly knows how to pick out the freaks,” commented another.

The man at Alfred’s mouth tilted his head back and groaned, and a burst of his seed was shot into Alfred’s mouth, coating his tongue. A few other splatters of the sticky white substance met the skin of his face, and dripped down his forehead and cheeks to the underside of his chin.

IIt tasted terrible, Alfred spitting the man’s cum out as his cock was pulled from his mouth. He wasn’t a freak, his body was just betraying him. Right? Or did he actually enjoy all of this? He honestly couldn’t tell anymore. His mind went back to what Arthur had told him about getting pregnant. If he came again would he be pregnant with more than one child? He really wasn’t sure how it all worked, or if it was even true.

Unfortunately for the man on the deck, relief over the hairy ass in his face being moved out of the way turned to horror when what Alfred spit out ended up getting sprayed all over his abdomen. “Oh, come on…” he groaned, especially as another ugly butt took the place of the previous one, the next man’s hard length forced into Alfred’s waiting mouth.

“Such a whore,” chuckled the pirate behind him, reaching around to pinch Alfred’s nipples. “It would have been a crime to let you get married to another woman like yourself.”

Alfred whimpered as his chest was toyed with, sending small sparks of pleasure straight to his cock. He gagged again as another cock was forced down his throat, wondering just how long these men would keep this up. Surely they were close to done, right?

The men thrusting into Alfred’s shredded hole began to speed the pace of their movements, even as the one beneath him was forced to stare at both the splatter of some other guy’s sperm on his body in disgust.

“I wonder if you can get him to reach his limit without touching him,” said one of the pirates, slapping Alfred’s face with his cock for the umpteenth time. Some of the men began smiling deviously, having heard the lie that he’d been told by Arthur, and wondering just how far they could take it.

No, no he couldn’t let it happen again. He hated it, there was no way he would come without being touched! Still, as the pain slowly died down pleasure built up inside of him, a bit of precum dripping from his cock. He had to get out of here somehow, had to escape even if it meant jumping into the ocean and swimming until he found land.

The man behind him reached around with his other arm, so that he was squeezing both of Alfred’s nipples at once, pulling and twisting them with no regard for how much it hurt. Several more splatters of cum covered Alfred’s body, a few getting into his caramel-blonde hair, and some on his wrists from the two he was being forced to use his hands on.

Alfred moaned around the cock in his mouth, unable to control himself. Despite how disgusted he felt with the other’s sticky cum splattered over his body he was still aroused, his cock begging to be touched.

“Aww, how adorable, his face is so red! Look at how much he loves it!” jeered one of the men, their seed shooting out to mix with the rest of the sperm all over Alfred’s face. “Make him swallow it! I bet he’ll like that!”

The one in Alfred’s mouth seemed to like the idea, because when he reached orgasm, he kept himself fully sheathed in Alfred’s mouth, not allowing him to spit it out like he had the last time. Meanwhile, the people pounding into him from behind weren’t letting up, and one of them released their load deep inside of him, though it was difficult to figure out just which one it was until the man on the deck lifted him up to pull out.

Alfred was relieved when one of the man exited him, although he felt disgusted as the other shot his cum down his throat, forcing him to swallow it all. Were they almost done? He hoped so, he wanted them to finish before he had a chance to.

It was hardly over, though. Almost as quickly as the other had departed, another man took his place underneath Alfred, and shoved his erection into Alfred without hesitation. The blood was beginning to turn gooey and make movement rather difficult, but the sperm still inside of him managed to keep him slick enough.

Alfred felt numb, blood trickling down his thighs as he was again forcefully penetrated. He felt like passing out, his mind getting hazy. Despite that though his cock was still hard and he could feel his orgasm approaching.

No mercy was shown as he was assaulted from all ends. When one man finished up, someone else quickly took their place. One of the pirates slapped Alfred on the wrist to get him to speed the movement of his hand over their cock, while others continued coating him in a thick layer of semen all over his face and chest.

It was hard for Alfred to stay coordinated enough to stroke the crew members off, his movements slow and awkward. It felt like this punishment was going to last forever, that it would never end.

The man behind him, who’d somehow lasted through the whole thing, breathed into Alfred’s ear and laughed. “Come, now, aren’t you at your limit? Doesn’t it feel good to have two deep inside of you? I want you to cum to the thought of your belly full of bastard children.”

Alfred shivered as he felt the man’s breath against his ear. It was oddly arousing and the attention to his chest wasn’t helping. He knew he was close, unable to stop as he moaned out around the cock in his mouth, his cum splattering onto the man beneath him.

There had already been some stifled laughter, but the sight of Alfred’s orgasm had the group of pirates erupt into a fit of mirth. Some of the ones who’d already gotten off rubbed their boots against his limp cock, a couple going so far as to kick him lightly in the balls. From that point, things slowly began wrapping up, as those who hadn’t already reached completion did so, either over his body, or inside of him. His mouth was quickly filled with sperm, and the two men pounding into his abused hole finished shortly after.

The kicking was definitely painful, causing Alfred to scream out as pain shot up to his stomach from where he had been kicked. He could barely feel the other men come, his mind too hazy. He knew he was going to pass out soon, rather thankful that he would.

At last, they pulled out, dumping his abused body off to the side while they cleaned themselves up and chatted with one another about the day. They rinsed themselves off with buckets of saltwater, and some were even ‘kind’ enough to dump a few on Alfred’s sperm-covered body, too. They didn’t pay too much attention to him after that, though; he seemed too weak to be capable of actually doing anything, and they had to hurry up and clean up the mess they’d made if they didn’t want to be on the wrong end of the whip.

Alfred fell to the hard floor as he was thrown off of the other men, curling up as he quietly began to sob. The water dumped on him didn’t do much, it really just made him feel worse. He couldn’t even feel like he could walk, hoping someone would at least carry him down so he could get some sleep.

Getting him back into his cell was one of the last things on their minds, particularly as a sudden screech erupted across the ship. It was followed by another, and another, until those on board were all turning their heads in the direction of what sounded like three men screaming like small children. One of the pirates that hadn’t participated in Alfred’s abuse ran around with a shell-shocked look on his face.

“The captain found the people who slipped the knife into the coat he gave that brat,” was his only explanation. The others, suddenly understanding, only nodded and got back to work, the noise a reminder of just why it was that nobody usually crossed him in the first place.

Alfred couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for whoever Arthur had just killed, curling up even more. He felt sickened as he felt cum drip from his abused backside. He felt absolutely covered in the stuff, as if no amount of bathing would get rid of it.

The minutes ticked on by, and Alfred’s body went mostly disregarded on the floor. Eventually, the screaming died down, the mutineers having apparently run out of the will to go on living. Either that, or Arthur had decided to be merciful enough to grant them a slightly quicker death than usual. The latter possibility seemed less likely as the captain himself rounded the corner to check up on things, his clothes absolutely soaked with fresh blood. It was everywhere, from his shoulders to his boots. Some had even gotten into his hair and dried up, and he idly sifted his fingers through the mess as he sized up the situation.

His first course of action was to take a closer look at Alfred’s body and give it a light kick. “Good,” he said, noticing the slight rise and fall of his captive’s chest. “For a moment, I thought they’d killed you.”

Alfred wasn’t unconscious yet, flinching as he was kicked. He didn’t respond to Arthur, not even bothering to look at the man. He was too humiliated, too embarrassed to even look the other in the eyes. He wanted to sleep, he didn’t even care about bathing he was too exhausted for anything but to curl up alone and fall asleep.

Arthur sighed as he realized he was going to have to carry Alfred back to his cell. He was still partially-coated in sperm, even as the men occasionally dumped buckets of saltwater over his limp body. “Sit up so I can clean you up. Come on,” he ordered, taking off his bloodstained shirt, then removing the slightly-stained undershirt beneath that and flipping it inside-out. “You’d better be grateful. I’m wasting a lot of my clothing cleaning semen off of you.” He would have used the rag, but all the ones that were available were being used to clean up the mess he’d left of the mutineers.

Alfred slowly sat up as told, sitting on his knees instead of his ass. He was grateful to be cleaned up, knowing he would probably throw up again if he wasn’t. He wondered if he should ask Arthur about his family, if all of those things had really happened but he knew it was pointless. The pirate seemed to be constantly lying to him.

Arthur took another one of the buckets of water handed to him by one of his men and dumped it over Alfred’s head. Even with his back turned, he trusted that they wouldn’t dare to attack him. Not just out of fear, but because the majority of them respected him as a leader and felt no reason to rebel. Still, the events of the day had him even more wary than usual, and he glanced down into the water as though to make sure nothing dangerous would suddenly spring out at him before he used it. He used his shirt to wipe off the sperm that coated Alfred’s body like a second skin, using his fingers to try to squeeze out what had gotten in his hair. When they were closer to land, he decided, he would have to have Alfred disembark to bathe in the sea. Such was the problem with having a whore on board; it wasn’t easy to get them cleaned up when you were done with them, especially after such an ordeal.

“So,” he asked dryly. “Did you have fun?”

"No," Alfred responded, voice hoarse from all of his screaming. The salt water stung against his wounds, wishing he had some normal water to bathe with. "You crew said they attacked my family," he needed to know if it was true, that is if Arthur even knew about that. 

“Well, of course they did,” answered Arthur unsympathetically, as though it were obvious. “I told you they wouldn’t be killed if you didn’t fight back, and they weren’t. Although, now that you’ve attempted to stab me, it’s not as though I should be compelled to hold up my end of the bargain any longer.” Fortunately for Alfred, it was too much trouble to sail all the way back just to murder his family.

Alfred began to sob again, his shoulders trembling as he reached up to cover his face with a hand. "Please don't hurt them," he begged, hoping his poor mother and brother were okay, that they had escaped and found somewhere new to call home.

“Perhaps you should have thought about that before you tried to murder your loving husband,” said Arthur, tossing the used shirt aside and giving Alfred a final rinse with a bucket of water, just to get rid of any final traces of semen. “Not that it’s entirely your fault. Worry not; those responsible for the brunt of the matter have been dealt with accordingly.” With Alfred mostly clean, he slipped his arms underneath him to pick him up off of the ground. He was heavier than Arthur had anticipated, but he didn’t have much trouble lifting him. He was stronger than he looked, as several had found out the hard way in the past.

Alfred winced as he was lifted, way too sore to even think of standing up. Blood and cum still trickled down his thighs, landing on the wood beneath him. "I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, shivering in the cool air. He leaned against the pirate for support, hating how close he was to the man.

Well, the lesson seemed to have been learned - if only temporarily - so there was no use beating a dead horse. “It isn’t as though you could have succeeded, anyway,” said Arthur, turning to start heading back to the cell. It would be tricky to get Alfred through the narrow corridors of the ship in such a position, but not impossible; he would just have to sidle through. “Even if by some miracle you’d managed to stab me, I’ve survived far worse than mere blades.” He didn’t like to think of himself as obtrusively proud, but he was far from humble about his experiences. “I could go back on my word, as you went back on yours, but lucky for you, I’m a gentleman. I’m willing to forgive you just this once so long as it doesn’t happen again.”

Alfred nodded, closing his eyes as he was carried. He knew he shouldn't be planning his next escape attempt but he couldn't go on much longer on the ship. He'd go insane for sure. Hell he would be willing to swim to shore next time the ship docked. He at least knew how to swim.

Arthur couldn’t help but find the resigned look on Alfred’s face rather endearing, despite himself. Sure, the man had just tried to kill him earlier, but to be fair, the vast majority of people he met for the first time usually tried to kill him. Except Francis, but that was because he’d been trying to get in his pants. “How about I show you something before I take you back to your cell, hm? Just a quick detour. Don’t fret, it doesn’t involve sex. I’m sure you’ve had quite enough of that for today.”

Alfred was relieved that it wasn't sex, although whatever the pirate had to show him couldn't be good. "Sure," he mumbled, knowing he would be shown anyways. He would need to be nice and obedient for awhile, maybe have the pirate let his guard down before his next escape.

“Good,” said Arthur, strolling over to the portside gunwale and holding Alfred up against it to look out over the sea. Even though the ship was anchored, the waves continued lapping at the hull like thirsty dogs. A cool breeze blew on by, though it didn’t do much to dry off Alfred’s wet, dripping body. “Isn’t it beautiful?” The ocean sparkled under the sun, which still hung high in the sky over in the east.

It really was beautiful Alfred thought, finding the statement a bit strange coming from the pirate. It actually felt...nice. The wind in his hair, the smell of the sea, he knew he'd really enjoy such a view if not for his situation.

“You seem rather quiet,” said Arthur, looking over Alfred’s face one last time to make sure there was no more sperm on it before he leaned down to give him a kiss on the forehead. To an outside viewer, there was probably something to be said for just how bizarre the scene was; after all, his trousers were still covered in blood, and Alfred was still naked. Still, for him, it was all in a day’s work. “I have a question for you, my little dove. Purely to sate my own curiosity. If, at some point in the future, we were captured by an English vessel, would you be able to kill the people coming after you to save your own skin? After all,” he added, staring out at the sea, “as far as they would be concerned, you’re just as much a pirate as the rest of us. If you’re captured, they will seek the death penalty.”

Kill someone? Sure Alfred had just tried to stab the other but what the pirate was describing seemed impossible. Surely if they were caught he could tell them his story, and they would take pity on him. He kept quiet, choosing not to answer and instead looked back at the ocean.

“Can’t answer?” said the pirate, smirking. “That’s fine. Neither could I, when I was first pressed into this life. But worry not. Sooner or later, you’ll grow desensitized to death.” He took a deep breath, allowing himself to take in the ocean air, then stepped back with Alfred still in his arms. “I was going to let you walk the ship with me today to give you a chance to stretch your legs, but it’s clear you still need some time to adjust back in your cell. Maybe next time, hm?” Arthur began the descent down the steep steps to the brig.

Alfred preferred the cell to being on deck anyways. At least down there no one was around to humiliate or make fun of him. He wasn't even sure if he could walk in his current state, his ass horribly stinging in pain. He did have to wonder though what made Arthur become a pirate but he'd ask another day, he just wanted to be alone right now.

Arthur pushed the metal door open with his foot and set Alfred down gently on top of the rags. “Well, I certainly hope you didn’t enjoy yourself so much we end up having several children to lug around in nine months. Might have to dump them all in the ocean,” joked Arthur, closing the door and locking it behind him. He wouldn’t really do such a thing; pirate though he was, he didn’t kill children. It wasn’t very sporting to murder something that couldn’t defend itself. Even one as annoying as the boy that resulted from that one-night stand with a barmaid back in London.

The room went dark as Arthur shut the door, Alfred left sitting there in silence. He was too worried to sleep, wondering if Arthur said was true. Would be really have several children now? And if he did would the pirate really drown them? Alfred was still so unsure about everything, lying down on the pile of rags he had been given. It really didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, too exhausted to stay awake despite his fears.


	5. Chapter 5

It was another calm day at sea, and they were expected to arrive at their destination by the end of the day. Arthur was, to put it mildly, getting a little bored. It was nice to have everything go well, but there was something thrilling about the feeling of rallying everyone together in the rain, or grasping desperately at a rope or something while the waves threatened to shove you right out into the sea. Others looked at him like he was crazy when he described his affinity for terrible situations, and they were probably right. It didn’t stop him from tossing them overboard, though.

Once more, Arthur found himself descending into the brig to collect his favorite - and only, at that particular point in time - prisoner.

Alfred had slept rather soundly, still asleep as Arthur came down. He awoke as light suddenly entered the room, hearing footsteps. His entire body felt sore, possibly even worse than how it had felt the day before. Sleeping on the hard floor didn’t help much either, grateful for the rags he had been given.

Arthur looked into the cell and, for the first time in weeks, smiled non-condescendingly at Alfred’s helpless form. All things considered, he’d acclimated quite well to life on a boat. Well, he was still deeply traumatized, of course, but he had yet to throw up or lose his balance on the rocking vessel. He was lucky the sea had been good to them; Arthur had a feeling he wouldn’t be so relaxed the first the the weather turned bad. He took the key ring off of its hook and unlocked the cell door.

Alfred sat up as Arthur entered, rubbing his eyes with his hands. He didn’t bother with a greeting, waiting for the pirate to talk first. He wasn’t really in the mood to give any pleasant hellos, especially with how terrible he was feeling.

“Good morning, my darling. Are you feeling well enough to walk today?” asked Arthur, stepping inside and bending over to press his hand to Alfred’s forehead. He didn’t seem sick. A good thing, since Arthur hoped to get through that day without any more incidents coming up. He glanced down at Alfred’s pile of rags and sifted through them; even though Alfred was bare, he didn’t want to deal with any more knives. Or worse, a gun. The gash on his face had already scabbed over, but bullet wounds took a bit longer to recover from.

“I don’t know,” Alfred muttered, legs feeling like noodles. He honestly just wanted to spend the day resting in his cell and having something to eat although hardtack wasn’t on his list of food he ever wanted to try again.

“Surely you want a chance to stretch your legs,” said Arthur, setting down a tidy little pile of folded-up clothing on the floor beside Alfred. Some of the men had brought back a few articles of women’s clothing from Alfred’s village; they were cheap, and a bit on the worn side, but they would do. Some of the men would get upset if he provided his personal whore with better clothing than them, perhaps rightfully so. “I promise you won’t have to provide any special favors today, so long as you do as you’re told and refrain from attempted murder. Unless you really want to, of course.”

That was a relief at least, his body way too sore to be doing anything like that. He looked at the clothing, a plain dress, the type his village wore. He was at least thankful for something to cover him up, even if it was a dress, corset, and some bloomers. 

“Well? Get dressed, if you can stand. Would you like assistance, darling?” asked Arthur, petting Alfred’s head and standing up, himself. “I was hoping you could accompany me for the day so I can show you how things work on this ship. After all, you never know when an emergency will come up that might require you to have some basic knowledge of the procedures we have to follow out here.” Especially if they headed back to Europe at any point. He was actually looking forward to a trip back to London, maybe at the end of the year. The Americas got a bit tiring after awhile.

Alfred slowly stood up, legs shaking a bit. “I-I need some help,” he mumbled, crossing his arms and shivering a bit. He’d especially need help with the corset that he hoped Arthur wouldn’t lace too tightly. His back still stung from the whipping he had gotten.

“Of course, darling,” said Arthur, a bit too nicely. He wrapped the corset around Alfred’s bandaged form, pleased to see that the wounds seemed to be healing up nicely, though they were still far from completely gone. He knew better than to lace it up too tightly, but he pulled the strings just a bit further than the last time. They would take it in steps, until he could span his newfound wife’s waist with his hands. Or, well, perhaps not quite that far, because that was a bit creepy. But it was interesting to see the aesthetic results of having it on a male body.

Alfred gasped as the corset was tightened, wincing in pain. It was tighter than before but luckily he was still able to easily breathe in it. He would remain obedient for now, gain Arthur’s trust before he attempted escape again. He needed time to heal anyways, knowing there was no way he could escape in his current condition.

“There’s a good lad. You’ll get used to it,” Arthur assured him, stroking his hair as one would a dog. He helped Alfred step into the bloomers, then draped the dress over his body. It was plain, but it looked rather fetching on him, though there was still the problem of shoes. He hadn’t checked the bottoms of Alfred’s feet, and didn’t know whether or not he would be able to handle being barefoot on the deck on such a hot day. It had been cool during the wedding, and the day after it, but the sun had decided that morning to beat down on them with a vengeance. There were always the shoes he’d worn when he’d gotten onto the ship, but masculine shoes would clash with the dress.

Alfred tugged the dress down, at least glad he wasn’t going to be walking around nude. Not that it mattered considering most of the crew had already seen him naked. It was strange how kind Arthur was acting, it had to be a trick he figured. Surely the pirate had something terrible planned for him.

As soon as Alfred was fully dressed, Arthur did a quick pat-down to make sure there weren’t any weapons on his person, then stood up straight and looked him over. “My dear, you look simply ravishing!” he said, cupping the young Puritan’s face in his cheeks. “I do apologize for yesterday, but it couldn’t be helped. Mutiny is a serious offense. I hope you won’t hold it against me.” He took Alfred by the hand and guided him out of the cell.

Alfred pulled his head away from Arthur’s grip, of course not forgiving the other. He’d never forgive Arthur for what happened! Slowly he walked up the steps with Arthur, gripping the man’s hand tightly. 

“I can see you aren’t in a talkative mood again,” said Arthur, guiding Alfred out onto the deck where the men were hard at work keeping the ship moving towards the next port. “However, I’m afraid I have some questions that must be answered. The first one being whether or not you’ve ever been on a ship before this.” He seemed to recall Alfred mentioning, or at least hinting that he hadn’t in the past, when they first met, but he asked just to be on the safe side.

Alfred shook his head no, refusing to talk especially after the pirate’s sarcastic comment. He had always wanted to go to a ship but never had been before Arthur had kidnapped him. It felt so strange to have something he had wanted to do for so long come true only for it to be an absolute nightmare.

“Well, then,” said Arthur, not surprised in the least. He’d had plenty of men aboard who’d never been on a ship before. Everyone had to start somewhere, and though he usually preferred to take in more experienced men, sometimes their enthusiasm was enough. In Alfred’s case, though, he just had the fortune - well, misfortune, really - of being good-looking. “How much do you know about ships?”

“Not much at all,” Alfred muttered, arms crossed in front of his chest. Considering he had never been on one he’d never learnt much about them. Most of his time was spent helping on his family’s farm after all.

“No need to sound so cross. I only ask so that I know where to begin, little lamb,” said Arthur, deciding it was probably best to try to brighten Alfred’s mood. He’d already driven a few people to suicide in the past. Some had been actual members of the crew. That had been annoying. “We’ll start small. The front of the ship is known as the bow.” He motioned towards the front. “The back is the stern. Are these familiar terms for you, or is this new information?”

“No, I know all of those,” Alfred mumbled, having heard enough sailor talk in his lifetime. It came with life so near the sea although he was always told to avoid such people. Sinners his parents had called them. 

“Okay, good. So we don’t have to start at the very beginning,” said Arthur, a little relieved. “So if I were to tell you to go aft, which direction would you go?” If Alfred did well, perhaps he would allow him to dine by his side in the captain’s quarters later that day. A bit of rum would help to numb his back pain.

Alfred had to think for a second before responding. “Uh, to the back of the ship?” he asked, not entirely sure if he was correct. Still it was nice to learn these terms, even if Arthur was the one teaching him. It took his mind off of everything else at least.

“Excellent work. You’ll be as good as any of my men before you know it!” said Arthur, nodding approvingly. Well, he had a passing knowledge of ships and terminology, it seemed, so the captain decided to ask a few other questions before they got to anything even slightly more advanced. Before anything else, he wanted to get a feel for all of Alfred’s skills, if he had any at all. “Has your father ever taken you hunting? Or, rather, do you know how to properly handle a gun?”

Alfred’s family didn’t have much need for hunting, having raised their own animals. “No. We were a farm so we raised our own livestock,” he knew how to kill certain livestock but not how to handle a gun. He knew though that any gun he’d be using on this ship wouldn’t be for hunting though.

“Not even for self-defense? Out here?” said Arthur, a bit surprised. It seemed like at least half of the colonists had guns, understandably so; they were on a frontier, parked right next to a bunch of savages further out west. However, he supposed it wasn’t quite as dangerous further east, with the inland colonies serving as buffer zones. “You do understand the basic mechanics, though, don’t you? That being which direction to point it, and how the trigger works.” He didn’t expect someone with minimal exposure to know how you were supposed to hold it, or how to aim at something out of point-blank range, but he really didn’t want to explain that no, you weren’t supposed to look down the bloody barrel while it was loaded.

Alfred nodded. He wasn’t that stupid he knew you were supposed to point the gun at the enemy and then pull the trigger but that was about it. His parents had owned guns but he and his brother had yet to be taught how to handle one. 

“Well, then, let’s see just how well you can do,” said Arthur, reaching into his coat to pull out a pair of revolvers he’d brought along for just such an occasion. One for Alfred, to test his skill, and one for him, as insurance against his pet attempting to get away again. “Just remember, if you shoot me, you still have the rest of the crew to contend with, and no way to get to shore even if you do miraculously manage to kill them all. So, with that reminder out of the way…” He looked around for something to target. They did have some old, ripped-up sailcloths they’d been using as rags. “You there!” he ordered one of the men that didn’t seem to have anything to do. “Fetch the old sailcloths and some ink.”

“Aye, captain.”

Alfred carefully held the gun, looking it over. Yes the idea of shooting the pirate did run through his mind but he knew Arthur’s words were true. Not to mention that the pirate would easily be able to shoot him first if he dared try to murder him. The knowledge could come in handy though for any future escape attempts.

The man who’d been sent to retrieve the sailcloths didn’t take long to return. He looked at Arthur warily as he handed them over. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to teach him how to shoot?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing in Alfred’s direction. “What if he-”

“I have to handle dozens of men with years of experience on a daily basis,” answered Arthur curtly, taking the cloth and looking around for an out-of-the-way rope to hang it over, ideally one that didn’t have anything behind it. Just such a few seemed to be hanging diagonally between the gunwale and a large stack of crates. He strolled over to tie them more securely into place. “Are you telling me that you can’t handle one young maiden who’s never even gone hunting before?”

“U-uh, no, sir!” said the man quickly, backing off.

“Good,” said Arthur, hanging the sailcloth over the rope as one would hang clothes on a clothesline, creating something to shoot. From there, he dabbed a glob of ink at the very center, forming a target, and headed back to Alfred’s side while the other man scurried off. “See how close you can get to that dot.”

Alfred nodded, unsure of how to exactly hold the gun. Taking a guess he held it up with his right hand, putting his pointer finger on the trigger. He took aim at the cloth and shot, a hole tearing through one of the corners of it. He had missed, badly. But it was to be expected of someone who didn’t even know how to properly hold a gun.

“Not bad,” said Arthur, nodding his head. “I’m impressed that you didn’t miss completely. There’s something to be said for that.” He took Alfred’s hands and guided them into place. “You’ve got the first hand right, but a beginner should use both hands, to keep steady. Try not to flinch from the noise, and remember to take the direction of the wind into account. If it’s blowing west, and you’re shooting north, you want to aim slightly to the east.” He traded guns with Alfred, so he could reload it while his captive tried a second time. “Go on, give it another go.”

Alfred nodded, holding up the gun again, using both hands this time. His ears still stung a bit from the first shot. He did his best to aim, pulling the trigger and seeing the side of the cloth blow off this time. It was hard to keep so steady, especially with the loud noise it made when he shot.

“Good work. Don’t beat yourself up too badly; these things aren’t as accurate as some would have you believe, even in the hands of an expert,” said Arthur, swapping his reloaded gun for Alfred’s blank one. He reloaded it quickly, in the space of only a few moments, then took aim at the cloth and fired. The bullet tore through a few centimeters away from the dot in the center. “Try just once more. Breathe deeply. Hold your breath, if it helps. There’s more to think about than just lining up the barrel with the target. Remember the wind, and keep your balance during the recoil.”

Alfred nodded again, holding up the gun and taking another shot. He landed about as far away as he had his previous shot, another hole ripping through the cloth. At least he wasn’t completely missing the thing he thought to himself. 

His inexperience clearly showed, but at such a distance, it was rather impressive that he never once missed the cloth entirely. Arthur took both guns back and placed them back in their holsters. “You’ve certainly got potential, and some decent instincts. With a little training, I’ve no doubt that you’ll improve.” Sure, he was the resident whore, but it would be a waste of resources to have him simply take up space in a cell for the rest of his days.

The compliments were nice at least, making Alfred feel a bit proud of himself. He would have liked to keep shooting but didn’t bother asking as Arthur took the gun. “What now?” he asked, wondering what else the pirate should show him.

Arthur wasn’t a fool, and he caught the slightly disappointed glint in Alfred’s eye as he removed the gun. At least he was eager to learn, though probably not for the reasons the captain wanted him to. “We’ll resume your gun training another day. For now, you should learn how the ship works. We’ll start below deck, with the cannons. Come along, darling.” He would wait until a little later when more of his men were on break and things were a little less crowded to show Alfred everything else. Though, even then, it would be just a brief explanation; when he trusted Alfred enough not to have him under constant supervision, his main duties would probably include such mundane tasks as swabbing the deck and keeping things orderly, learning the ins and outs by watching the others. Or at least, that was the plan. Most of his toys were dead by that point.

Alfred followed the other, having to descend the stairs slowly thank to his corset and the pain he was still in. The walking was helping his limbs unstiffen a bit although his backside and the wounds on his back still stung. He had to admit he was a bit excited to see the cannons, never having seen one be shot before.

Given how valuable cannonballs were, especially in comparison to bullets, Arthur didn’t intend to show them off in action. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t demonstrate how they worked. Arthur guided him down the steps, though not quite as deep as usual, and into the room they went. It was full of crates and barrels, as well as innumerable tools for upkeep. There were a few men on duty, and a few using their break to get out of the hot sun, but it was relatively crowd-free at that particular point in time. “Here we are,” said Arthur, placing his hand on one of the many cannons lining the walls.

Alfred followed, looking the other way from the crew members. He was still humiliated from the other day, hoping none of them would say anything as he walked in. He looked at the cannon, realizing it was a bit larger than he had imagined. 

“Impressed?” asked Arthur, sifting his fingers idly through Alfred’s hair. “Don’t be. They rarely get put to use. If they are, then it’s a sign something’s gone wrong. Not to say we don’t have experience with them, or aren’t trained in their use. However, it’s typically much less expensive to run up a flag indicating an emergency and let some poor bleeding heart come to us than it is to engage in naval combat.” They were pirates, after all. They didn’t play fair.

Well, fighting did sound bad, and dangerous. Alfred would prefer to stay out of danger the best he could while on the ship. It was still interesting to see at least. Plus seeing the ship meant no more sex, at least for now.

“Unfortunately,” Arthur continued, “they’ll likely see ample use in the coming months when we attempt to secure the Spaniards’ gold. Given how often they’re raided by government-sponsored privateers, they won’t be likely to simply give us the gold and go. For that reason, I want you ready in the likely event that we’re boarded. It would be depressing if you were killed simply because you didn’t know how to shoot accurately for more than a meter in front of you.” Rather than frighten his little pet, he opted to begin going over proper cannon use. “First, a cannon has to be primed…” He motioned to the various areas of the device as he spoke, slowly going over each and every step.

Alfred listened the best he could, already new escape plans forming in his mind. Could he get one of the Spanish to help him? After all surely he could convince them he wasn’t with the pirates. It had to be obvious that he wasn’t there of his own free will. He turned his attention back to Arthur however, knowing that it was important to learn such things.

“...then you simply repeat the process. At least two people are usually required per cannon, and there’s always the risk of the enemy’s cannons striking you back through the ship. This vessel is fast enough, and our tacticians intelligent enough that we ordinarily manage to avoid it coming to that, but as you can plainly see from the state of repair, sometimes it’s unavoidable,” concluded Arthur, gesturing towards the wooden walls. Some sections of it were old and somewhat splintered, while others looked much newer, implying that there had been some repair work. “You shouldn’t worry yourself so much, though. We go through enough drills to know how to minimize the damage done. That said, I’ve heard talk that some of the trees this side of the sea have wood as sturdy as iron… I’ve yet to see it for myself, but I’d certainly love to acquire a ship made out of such a material, if it were true.”

Alfred couldn’t help but space out a bit as Arthur rambled on. The cannons weren’t as interesting as he had hoped, although it made sense that Arthur couldn't just go firing them off for no reason. Ammo was limited after all. Listening to him go on was better than anything else that had happened to him so far, giving the occasional nod to make it look like he was listening.

“With that out of the way,” continued Arthur, waving his hand to indicate that Alfred was to follow him, “we can continue to the next part of your lessons. I would rather we postpone the workings of the ship until around noon, when there are fewer men at work. So, since you looked so bored during the last lecture, I was thinking that perhaps we could return to something more interesting.”

“More...interesting?” Alfred asked, not liking the sound of that. He hadn’t meant to look bored! He just had a short attention span. His mind immediately began thinking of what it could be, trying to shake those thoughts away.

Arthur hadn’t meant it like that, but the look on Alfred’s face was absolutely delightful. “Yes, more interesting. We’ll have to go back up on deck, first. Somewhere out-of-the-way, where there won’t be anybody to bother us.” He knew he was being an absolute bastard, but, well, he was a thief, rapist, and a murderer. Really, Alfred was getting off easy.

Alfred nodded, following the pirate back up on deck. Oh god he hoped he was wrong with what he was thinking. He wished he could hide his fear better, knowing it must be written all over his face. “Wh-What are we gonna do?”

Arthur led Alfred back to the relatively open space where he’d been brutalized by the men the previous day, and brought his lips to his wife’s ear suggestively. “I think you know what we’re going to do, little lamb…”

Alfred shivered, pulling away from the pirate. “B-But…” Arthur was showing him around the ship. He had been good hadn’t he? Why was the pirate threatening this now?

“That’s right, it’s time for some fencing practice!” said Arthur cheerfully, pulling back and drawing his rapier. “Or, rather, since I could easily kill you, I’ll simply remain on the defensive while you try to strike me, for now. Don’t worry about being punished for cutting me; if someone as inexperienced as you can manage that much, then I don’t deserve to be captain to begin with.” He looked around for someone else in the area. One of the men was whistling ‘To Anacreon in Heaven’ and scrubbing the deck. Arthur reached down to take his blade and hand it to Alfred. “I’d like to borrow this for the time being, if you don’t mind.”

The man washing the deck simply shrugged and resumed his whistling. Arthur couldn’t quite understand why, but there was something about that tune that struck him as rather irritating, as though, in some alternate universe, it was a constant reminder of some great loss. But that was silly. He shrugged it off and turned back to Alfred.

Alfred took the rapier in hand, rather unsure of how to hold it. It seemed so dangerous to be pointing one at the pirate. Even if the man said he wouldn’t be punished if he managed to cut him Alfred was still worried.

“Now, do you know the name of this particular blade?” asked Arthur, holding up his rapier and assuming a combat-ready stance to demonstrate both the proper grip and position that one was supposed to assume.

“No,” Alfred said, trying to mirror Arthur’s stance with holding the blade. It was heavier than he thought it would be, although he still had an easy time holding it.

“This is known as a rapier,” explained Arthur, giving Alfred some time to get his footing. “It’s lightweight, intended for unarmed, one-on-one combat. Unlike some blades, your intention with the rapier is not to hack and slash at your opponent. The primary use is to stab.” He demonstrated a stabbing motion, off to the side and away from Alfred. “Give it a go. Try to stab me.”

Alfred felt a bit nervous about being told to try and stab the other, shakily holding his sword like Arthur had and lunging forward, going a bit slower than he should have. After all god forbid he end up severely hurting Arthur.

 

Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred’s hesitance, easily batting the sword out of the way as it came towards him. “I know I punished you when you attempted to murder me before, but this is a sparring session. I want you to come at me with everything you have. I’m explicitly giving you permission to attempt to kill me.” Perhaps he just needed some motivation. “If you can kill me, you’re free to go. The men will turn the ship around, and bring you home. I promise you that, with that man over there as my witness.” He looked at the man scrubbing the floor, who looked up irritably.

“I have a name, you know!” said the pirate.

Alfred didn’t believe for one second that he could actually kill the pirate. The man must have fenced dozens of times whereas this was his first time. It was all just an attempt to tease him he knew. Pulling his sword back he lunged at the pirate again, this time not hesitating.

Predictably enough, Arthur parried Alfred’s sword without so much as breaking a sweat. At least he was trying, though. “You’re telegraphing your movements when you go to attack me,” explained Arthur. “Try not to stare directly at the location you intend to stab; use your peripheral vision, and use smaller movements when you come forward that don’t give me as much time to react.”

Alfred nodded, taking a few steps back. It was hard not to look at where he intended to stab, trying to focus his eyes behind Arthur. Readying his sword he lunged forward again, this time a bit stronger than before.

“Much better!” said Arthur, though he still knocked Alfred’s sword away from his body before it got close. “You learn quickly. That’s a valuable talent.” He looked up at the sun in order to estimate the time. “Try it once more, and then we’ll go to my quarters for something to eat, hm? You must be starving.” He began circling around Alfred, to see how he performed with a moving target. It was an introductory day, after all, and he wasn’t really trying to give Alfred an in-depth lesson so much as he was trying to gauge his natural skill. So far, he seemed reasonably talented with a sizable potential, at least more so than he’d expected of a born-and-raised farmer. “Just remember, self-control is imperative. You don’t want to simply come at me with all your might; you’ll use up all your strength. Or worse.”

Food sounded great, Alfred realizing that his stomach was growling. He followed Arthur as the man began to move, doing his best to concentrate. Once he was sure he could get the other he lunged forward at the pirate only to have the other move at the last second and his sword cutting into one of the other crew members legs, giving him a rather large, if not shallow, cut.

“FUCK!” yelped the pirate whose leg had just been sliced open by the blade. “You fucking bitch!”

Arthur pressed the tip of his sword against Alfred’s back, unimpressed. “You’re much stronger and faster than I thought, certainly, but you lack the necessary self-control. No matter. You will improve with time. Time, and humility.” He sheathed his rapier and stepped up to where the sailor was sitting, evaluating the status of the wound. “How does it look?”

“It’s - nngh! - fine, sir!” said the man quickly, getting to his feet and limping a few steps. “I can still work!”

“I admire your tenacity, but I can’t have you dying on me,” said Arthur, taking a closer look for himself. “Go have someone else take over your shift, and have that looked at.” The ship’s doctor would know about such things more than he did. “Alfred, please return his sword and apologize.”

Alfred looked at the man, noticing it had been one of the men from the other night, from his punishment. He looked the other way, holding out his sword. He didn’t feel bad anymore though, if anything he was glad the other was in pain. “S-Sorry,” he muttered, obviously not meaning it.

“Fucking whore,” muttered the pirate, snatching his sword back and shuffling off.

“That’s one of the least sincere apologies I’ve ever heard,” said Arthur, taking Alfred by the hand and chuckling. “Second only to me. Come along, my lovely maiden. I think it’s about time we got ourselves some lunch, wouldn’t you agree?” He didn’t tell Alfred just yet about his impending punishment. After all, that would spoil the meal.

Lunch did sound good, his stomach rumbling again at the mention of it. He wanted to tell Arthur why he wasn’t sorry but figured the pirate wouldn’t really care. Whatever, he had apologized like he had been told.

“So, Alfred, seeing as you live so close to the coast, I was wondering how much fish you consume on a regular basis,” said Arthur, leading Alfred back to the captain’s quarters through the door between the two staircases to the bridge. As much as he hated the ridiculous over-abundance of corn, with its irritating tendency to become lodged between his teeth, he had a fondness for the fish in the area. “If you have a seat, I’ll get something freshly-cooked from the kitchens for the both of us, hm?” It wasn’t like there was anywhere to run off to.

Alfred sat down, glad to be hearing about having something other than hardtack. “Yeah I ate a lot of fish,” he liked it too. He wasn’t really picky about what he ate, well except for the hardtack. “What are you getting us?” he asked, simply curious about what had been cooking.

“It really depends on what we’ve caught. Probably something such as haddock, or mackerel,” answered Arthur, standing by the door to leave. “Don’t do anything stupid, and try not to break anything. I know things are a bit tight, but some of these items are quite valuable.” He took a step back and closed the door, leaving Alfred alone and free of any restraints.

Alfred wasn’t stupid, he knew actually getting up and breaking anything would get him in trouble. The last thing he needed right now was to have the pirate mad at him again. So he obediently waited on Arthur, staying still in his seat at the table.

Arthur didn’t take too long, and returned with not only a single plate full of fish and - unfortunately - two ears of corn on the side. A lavish meal, especially on a ship, but being so close to port for the time made it possible. In his other hand, he held a bottle of rum, both of which he set down on the small table in the center of the room before shutting and locking the door behind him. He placed a pair of glasses out for both of them, and poured the rum into both before he sat down across from Alfred.

“Uhm, I’ve never had alcohol before,” Alfred said, watching as the pirate prepared their meal. The food looked good and he sure did love corn. Too bad he wasn’t getting any water. He doubted the alcohol would quench his thirst.

“If you don’t wish to drink it, I will,” said Arthur, gulping down the whole glass in one go. “It’s an acquired taste.” He reached into his pocket and took out two forks; one for him, and one for Alfred. “How well-off was your family, out of curiosity?” It wasn’t really a proper question, but then again, it wasn’t really a proper situation.

“Uh, fine I guess. We were farmers so we had plenty of food and money,” They weren’t poor that was for sure, although they were far from being rich. Average could probably describe it best. “And can I just have some water?”

Arthur swapped glasses with Alfred, then stood up, headed for a barrel in the corner of the room, opened it up, and dipped it in, until it was full of water. He then closed the barrel, and set the glass down beside Alfred. “It may still taste a bit like alcohol from the residue. I hope that’s fine. Perhaps after you’ve gotten over your thirst, you could try a little. It may help with the pain.” He took another sip of rum, though he made sure to drink far slower, that time. Not even he could pull that off again. As much as he’d tried to build up a resistance to the effects of alcohol, particularly after a certain incident involving that sleazy Frenchman and his wine, his tolerance of it still wasn’t any higher than around the average for the men on his ship.

"It's fine," Alfred said, taking a sip of the water. He'd avoid the rum for now, not knowing how it would affect him since he had never drank before. Setting his glass down he started to eat from the corn. It wasn't the best but then again he was used to fresh food.

Arthur shrugged. He’d been hoping Alfred would try a little, or a lot, and maybe even get himself drunk. It would make it so much easier to punish him if he couldn’t tell up from down. Oh well. He would push for it a little more once he was finished with his drink. “So, since this is our first meal as a couple, I’d quite like you to tell me a little about yourself. What was your home life like?” Knowing more about a person made it easier to manipulate them.

Alfred really didn’t want to talk about his family, hell he didn’t even want to think about them. “Not too interesting. My brother and I would help around on the farm a lot.” he had actually enjoyed some of the farm work, something that couldn’t be said about his brother. “We were a pretty happy family.”

“Oh, really? No problems at all?” asked Arthur, taking a piece of the haddock and leaving the corn for Alfred. What he really longed for was some of the meat that was so much more abundant overseas. All the damnable nobles kept the vast majority of the available hunting grounds for themselves back home. The people of the colonies didn’t have such hang-ups. Well, pros and cons to any place, he supposed. “I suppose I didn’t have any issues with my family, either.”

“Then why become a pirate?” Alfred asked in a low voice, taking another bite of corn. His family could have continued being happy too if Arthur wouldn’t have come along and ruined everything. Even if he managed to escape there was no telling if he would even be able to find them again.

Arthur shrugged. “Well, I didn’t have any issues with my family because they were all dead,” he answered. “My mother from smallpox, my father from suicide after he went into debt.” The idea of killing oneself seemed a bit of a cop-out, to him. “I had some older brothers, of course. Two were soldiers. Another died in surgery, when one of his wounds began to fester.”

Alfred felt a tinge of sympathy for the pirate, well, until he remembered what the man had done to his family. “So after losing your family you found it fun to make others lose theirs as well?” he asked bitterly, setting down the fork he had been eating with.

“It’s not quite that simple,” said Arthur, chuckling at the very idea. He wasn’t out to make others miserable. That was just petty. He was out for fortune and glory. “My father was the last to die. With such a large amount of debt, they could do nothing but seize all of our assets. Myself included. Eventually, I ended up working as an indentured servant in some wealthy slob’s fishing industry…” He wasn’t quite sure why he was telling Alfred anything. Not that he had anything to hide; it was just that he’d sort of come hoping for answers from his new wife, not the other way around. Well, perhaps after a bit of alcohol, he’d loosen up and reveal something with which Arthur could manipulate him. “I hated it, more than anything else in the world. I’d grown up in a modest household, certainly, but never had I been made to handle such unpleasant tasks as handling thousands of dead fish before then.”

Alfred still felt very little sympathy for the pirate. Just because one had misfortune in life doesn’t mean they can go out causing others misfortune. “So what made you decide it’d be fun to go around murdering and kidnapping people?” he asked, a bit curious as to what made the pirate into who he was. One would think that after losing their family they wouldn’t want others to feel the same.

Arthur didn’t answer directly; he simply continued to speak. “After a few years, when I was, oh, fourteen, or so, I had my first introduction to life on the sea. Rather than simply cleaning fish, they took me on the boat with them, to learn the trade. I was overjoyed, at first; as boring as fishing is, it was much more exciting than what I’d been doing up until then.” A scowl crossed his face, his bushy eyebrows furrowing. “It was that day that I was introduced to piracy. As soon as we were out at sea, we were attacked by a French sloop. With no weaponry, and no combat skill, we were easy prey for a ship desperate for new crew members.”

It was rather irritating to have his questions be ignored but Alfred figured the pirate would eventually get to it. He took the time to eat some more as Arthur talked, wondering what had happened that day. Had something similar happened to Arthur that had happened to him? It made him wonder.

“The captain was intolerable,” said Arthur, the anger at the memories enough to have him gulping down another glass of rum, alcohol tolerance be damned. “An absolute frog. I hated him from the moment our eyes first met. He kept flirting with absolutely everyone! There was simply no shame, and I don’t think there was a person on that ship that he hadn’t fucked. And to make matters worse, he set his sights on me! Me! Every opportunity he got, he was trying to get me to bend over and be his prissy little whore!” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. “As much as I hated him, I couldn’t deny that he was a good captain, though. His skill in combat was unmatched, and I was always eager to learn everything he had to teach. Even if that meant participating in acts I don’t care to remember.” Was there hypocrisy in his words? Probably. But Alfred was far more the type for such things than he was, really. Besides, he’d picked Alfred up with the idea of his main purpose being his whore in mind. Francis had simply wanted to bang a member of his crew. “So I learned. Planned a mutiny. Failed. Slipped away with my supporters. Captured a ship. And the rest is history. Still, I yearn to encounter him again, so I can run my blade through his heart.”

“You sound a lot like him really,” Alfred remarked, taking a sip of his water. He knew it was wrong to think but a small part of him had hoped that the pirate Arthur was talking about had done such things with him. Not that he cared about being right anymore, he was already damned to hell as it was. 

The wine glass shattered in Arthur’s hand. “What did you just say?” he asked, his voice low, like an animal that was about to pounce. “Because it sounded to me as though you just compared me to Francis Bonnefoy.” Nobody compared him to Francis. Those who’d been with him long enough to have been on that ship with him knew that much. “Do go on. I’m eager to hear your reasoning.”

“Well. You’re cruel, you’re using me as a whore, much like he tried to do to you,” Alfred said, glaring back at the pirate. He knew he would get in trouble and he knew he would hate himself later for doing this but damn if it didn’t feel good to piss the pirate off. “Sounds like denial to me.”

“Nonsense,” said Arthur, laughing and pouring himself another glass of rum, with a new cup that he hadn’t just shattered. “I was brought aboard specifically to be a member of the crew, for one. For another, believe it or not, but I’m treating you infinitely better than I was treated on that God-forsaken ship.” He could still remember the humiliation he’d endured on a daily basis, even when he’d done nothing wrong. The way that the bastard would just look for excuses to sexually humiliate him in front of the whole crew, or the way he’d pierced his left ear as a mark of his ‘ownership.’ “But if you want me to demonstrate the difference, then I will gladly do so.” He stood up. “After all, you still have to be punished for your little fencing accident, don’t you?”

“H-Hey, that had been an accident!” Alfred yelled, having almost forgotten about the entire thing. “Besides look. You’re just looking for excuses to humiliate me as well!” to him Arthur and this Francis person didn’t seem very different. “You’re just getting so upset because you know I’m right.”

“You know nothing!” snapped Arthur, stepping around the table to wrap his hands around Alfred’s throat. “Women should be seen and not heard, wouldn’t you agree?” He pressed his thumb against Alfred’s windpipe and squeezed, while simultaneously pulling him out of the chair and dragging him to the bed.

Alfred had been expecting Arthur to snap, and while it hurt having his air cut off, left gagging and struggling under the pirates grip, it did feel good to have upset the other. His feet shuffled along after Arthur, stumbling as he was dragged over to the bed.

Arthur slammed Alfred’s head against the wall. “So, you think it was exactly the same for me as it was for you, do you? Since you’re so certain that we’re the same, it shouldn’t matter if I do what he did.” He held Alfred against the wall with his arm, then began lifting up his dress to pull it up over his body and strip him down.

“Fine, go ahead and prove it to me,” Alfred grunted, gasping for air as his neck was released. He tugged weakly at the ropes binding him to the bed, knowing he had better brace himself for the torture the pirate was about to give him.

Alfred had little choice but to go along with it as his clothing was removed piece by piece; by the time all was said and done, the only thing remaining was the corset, which Arthur left there solely because he knew removing it would provide his pet with relief. He grabbed his trusty rope and, with one knee pinning Alfred’s body to the bed, released his throat to start tying his wrists to the bed yet again. He had things he needed to fetch.

Arthur only smirked as he left the captain’s quarters to go retrieve the necessary implements. Once again, he left Alfred alone, though that time, he was restrained. It was several minutes before he returned, carrying a sack over his shoulder, as well as a lit oil lantern in his other hand.

Alfred didn't bother struggling as he was left alone, simply waiting. He looked up as Arthur returned, wondering what was in the bag. "What's all that?"

Arthur set the oil lantern on the table by the food to let it heat up, then set the sack down on the floor. He made sure the door was securely locked as he approached Alfred, and straddled his form to pin his body down to the bed. “You’ll see, my little lamb.”

Alfred glared up at the pirate, trying not to let his fear show. After all this was all his fault, he could have kept quiet. Still it was fun to see the pirate so upset for once, Alfred feeling like this had been some small victory.

“Such a rebellious look,” said Arthur, reaching into the sack to pull out a slightly thicker than average needle resembling a nail. “Now, I’m afraid I’ve forgotten something about that religion of yours. I can’t quite remember if you lot allow for the modification of the body. I seem to recall something about desecration of God’s creation. But, then again, we’ve already established your existence as a mistake. So I suppose it doesn’t matter.” He wiped the needle against his shirt to make sure it was clean. “You’re probably going to regret not drinking the rum when you had the chance.”

“A-A needle?” Alfred asked, eyeing the sharp object. Yes, their people were against such things, although Arthur was right it wasn’t like God cared for him anymore. Was the pirate going to pierce him? But why? 

“Consider it a mark of ownership,” said Arthur, pressing his fingers against the lobe of his own ear. He never wore anything in it anymore, and the hole had probably closed up by that point, but the scar still remained. “You think I’m like him, don’t you? So I may as well do all of the same things. Wouldn’t you agree, little lamb?” Maybe Alfred was right. Maybe he was just like Francis. But there was a difference between him and Alfred, and that was that Alfred was weak. He didn’t deserve his freedom like Arthur had. He pressed the needle to Alfred’s ear, not yet hard enough to puncture the skin.

Alfred flinched at the contact, shutting his eyes tightly as he prepared himself for the pain that was about to happen. It shouldn’t be too bad he kept telling himself, just a little poke in the ear. If others could get it done so could he, he wasn’t weak, he just had to keep telling himself that.

Arthur wasn’t quick as he did it. Just like Francis had, he took his time, slowly increasing the pressure until Alfred’s ear began to bleed, and making sure he felt every millimeter of the metal as it punctured the flesh of his ear. He wanted to see him crying. Crying because there was nobody on his side, nobody willing to help him. “Does it feel good, little lamb? Tell me, what’s it like?”

Despite telling himself he wouldn’t scream Alfred did just that, his screaming filling the room as the needle slowly penetrated his earlobe. Blood trickled down to his neck and Alfred did his best to stay completely still, scared that if he moved his ear would be torn. He couldn’t quite answer the pirate’s question at that very moment, settling for screaming even more.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no,’ then,” said Arthur, finally deciding to show some mercy. He pushed the needle all the way through, pulled it out, and immediately replaced it with a small iron hoop. “It came out quite nice, actually. You’re lucky I have steady hands.” He reached over for the bottle of rum, reached his fingers inside, and coated them in alcohol. He then dabbed the substance around the piercing, having seen first-hand what could happen if one didn’t clean it. Unfortunately for Alfred, alcohol on a wound wasn’t usually pleasant.

Alfred hissed in pain, his ear stinging even more thanks to the alcohol. Still, he knew alcohol was good for cleaning out cuts and such and was at least thankful for that. The hoop felt so heavy on his ear though, like it would stretch out his earlobe.

“You might not want to play around with that too much. We wouldn’t want you to get an ugly scar, now, would we?” said Arthur, an ever-so-slight slurring in his words. He tossed the bloody needle back into the sack to be cleaned up later, then pulled his pocket knife from his coat to drag the flat of the blade against Alfred’s cheek. “I once watched a man run across a bed of hot coals as if they were nothing, back in the east. I wonder if you have the same heat resistance?” He took the lantern and blew out the flame. It wasn’t there for light. What mattered was that the oil was nice and heated.

Alfred turned his head away as the knife pressed against his cheek, not yet breaking skin. “Wh-What do you mean?” he asked, the room going dim as the lantern went out. Was this really worth pissing off the other? At first it seemed like a good idea but he never really thought these things through very well.

Arthur smiled and, with one quick motion, sliced Alfred’s cheek, in much the same manner he’d done the other day when he’d so foolishly attempted to escape captivity. “I imagine you’re not very used to actual whale oil. It doesn’t smell quite the same as the animal fat substitutes, but it gets just as hot.” He opened up the lantern, and pressed the metal blade into the oil.

Alfred screamed again as his cheek was slashed, blood trickling down his face. He wanted to beg so badly but he couldn't. Not after that display he had put on earlier. He had to at least pretend to be strong.

With the blade coated in oil, Arthur held both it and the lamp over Alfred, then withdrew the knife. With it, he let a few hot droplets fall to Alfred’s chest, a little taste of what was to come. He still had a few burn marks on his body from such sessions. He hoped Alfred wouldn’t scar quite so badly. Burn marks weren’t one of his favorite things to look at.

“D-Dammit,” Alfred muttered, biting his lower lip to keep from screaming out. Tears formed in his eyes and fell down his cheeks from the pain, the hot oil singeing his skin. It would probably blister later, making that damn corset even more painful when he would put it on next.

“Oh? No more screaming?” asked Arthur, dipping the knife back in the oil. When he pulled it out again, he scraped it along the edge of the lantern so it wouldn’t drip, then held it over one of Alfred’s nipples. “I can fix that. But, I’m a sporting fellow, as we’ve already established. I’ll give you one chance to convince me that I shouldn’t press this blade right here, right now.” He wondered if Alfred would bring up the question of how he would feed their child with injuries to such an area. They would certainly heal by then, but he wanted the answer to be why it would inconvenience him, not Alfred. Of course an injury would inconvenience the recipient.

Alfred’s mind raced with thoughts, trying his best to think of any excuse. “B-Because ah, y-you won’t be able to touch it during sex if you burn it,” god that sounded stupid, but he knew it had to think of a reason that didn’t just involve his discomfort.

“Of course I could touch it during sex. It would just hurt you,” said Arthur, though he lifted the blade up anyway. “I suppose I can give you points for effort.” Not quite good enough, though. He set the lantern aside, then reached behind himself with the hand not holding the oil-coated knife to take Alfred’s cock in hand. “Let’s try something else. Why shouldn’t I burn this?”

Alfred gasped as his cock was touched, again his mind racing to think of any excuse. “Ah, b-because I-I couldn’t get p-pregnant if you did,” that sounded even worse than his first excuse but he wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind at that very moment.

Arthur sighed. “Very well. I can accept that one. Still, I can’t just let all this oil go to waste, now, can I?” He slapped the flat of the blade against Alfred’s stomach and pulled it off, then got off of Alfred to squeeze back between his legs. “I can’t wait to see your tummy all swollen with my children.” The pirate stroked Alfred’s stomach with his empty hand. “You see, that’s the main difference between us, Alfred. I never had to worry about getting pregnant. I could never enjoy the things I’m doing to you, because I was meant to be a man. It’s that simple, really. I could tell from the moment I saw you that you were a mistake; the way you look, the way you carry yourself… It’s painfully obvious.”

Screams filled the room as the hot blade pressed against Alfred’s flesh, burning it before the pirate moved his hand away. Alfred spread his legs willingly this time for Arthur, whimpering as his stomach was stroked. “Wh-What’s that supposed to mean? I look like a man not a woman, I-I act like a man too.”

It couldn’t get any more perfect. “You do? I wasn’t aware that a man would spread their legs so willingly,” said Arthur, quite pleased by the lack of a struggle. “A real man would keep fighting and defying it every time, not roll over and take it after less than a week on board. Everyone has their limits, for certain, but yours are quite a bit lower than average.” Arthur set the blade aside, and leaned down to tug gently on Alfred’s new piercing with his teeth.

“Ah, o-ow stop,” Alfred whimpered, the tugging rather painful on his sensitive earlobe. He wanted to keep fighting but ever since what had happened after trying to stab the pirate he knew he needed to wait more, make the pirate trust him. He just needed to keep telling himself that, that he was only submitting so that later he could escape.

“Don’t start now,” said Arthur, pulling back for just long enough to speak. “It won’t do you any good. Your behavior has already cemented your status.” He pressed his tongue to Alfred’s throat and gave it a small lick, then sank his teeth into the side of his neck like a wild animal ready to tear out its prey’s jugular. It was just enough force to leave an imprint, without doing any actual damage. “The hierarchy in life is fairly simple. You have prey, and you have predators. You were born prey. The only reason I intend to teach you self-defense is to prevent you from being gobbled up by someone else.” He wouldn’t make the same mistake Francis had; he would teach Alfred to fight, for certain, but never enough to match up to him. It would be silly to have someone completely defenseless on a vessel such as theirs, especially someone with the level of potential he saw in Alfred. But he was, first and foremost, Arthur’s toy. If a day came when he was completely broken, and his loyalty proven, perhaps he would show him some more advanced maneuvers. But until that day - if it ever came at all - he would keep to the basics.

Alfred gasped, hating how good it felt as the other bit him. He refused to believe Arthur’s words, knowing the pirate was just trying to mess with him. If only the other would just be quiet during sex it would make this a lot less painful.

“Such an unhappy face you have…” said Arthur, pulling down his trousers. It was much easier than when he’d consummated their ‘marriage’ and had to pull down a pair of tights. He couldn’t lie; he quite loved wearing fine clothing, and he was known for spending significant stretches of time making sure his high heels were polished before he stepped on shore. However, they were an absolute nightmare to remove when one was trying to have sex with a fair maiden as quickly as possible. “Won’t you smile for your husband?”

“No,” Alfred said, shooting Arthur a glare. He was breathing heavily, not an easy thing to do in a corset. He was in no mood to pretend to be happy for the other. “You can keep doing this to me but I’ll never enjoy it.”

“Of course you will. You’ve already enjoyed it, and were impregnated for it,” answered Arthur. “There’s defiance, and there’s denial, love. You’re experiencing the latter of the two.” He was so cute when he was angry, with that look of a cornered deer in his eyes. As tempting as it was, his little lamb would be much more useful if he let it develop than if he cut it up and turned it into veal. “If you possess even a modicom of intelligence, you will renounce your previous statement and apologize.”

“Why should I?” Alfred asked, already knowing the answer. He should because if not this pirate would just torture him more. It was like a game, he’d say something, the pirate would threaten him, he’d regret it, then it would all repeat again. “Am I really pregnant? How can you even tell?”

“A man knows these things,” answered Arthur cryptically, pressing his ear against Alfred’s belly as though he were actually listening for something. “A maiden like yourself wouldn’t recognize these things. Although, I suppose you aren’t a ‘maiden’ anymore.” He lifted his head. “I’ll give you one last chance, darling. Renounce. Your. Words.”

“Go to hell,” Alfred spat, his mood getting worse as Arthur kept talking. He vaguely wondered just how far he could push Arthur, although he knew ultimately that was a very bad idea. For now though it was a bit satisfying seeing the other so angry.

“We’re already there, love,” said Arthur, pulling his trousers back up. Ordinary sex would have to wait. “And unfortunately for you, I’m the devil.” He pinned Alfred down with a knee between his legs, then untied his wrists whilst applying a constant pressure to his crotch. He almost felt sorry for what he was doing; the poor creature was obviously incredibly dumb. It was like beating a baby. He didn’t even seem to understand what it was that he was doing.

Alfred groaned out as Arthur’s knee painfully pressed against his cock, wondering what the man could be doing considering he was untying his hands. “Wh-What are you doing?” he asked, weakly struggling to get away from the pressure.

“You want to act like a child,” answered Arthur, grabbing Alfred by the arm and sitting back, “so I’m going to discipline you as one would any brat.” He yanked his ‘wife’ over his lap and pressed one elbow into the crook of his back, right against the lace of his corset.

It was clear what Arthur intended to do, Alfred’s cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I-I’m not a little kid,” he whimpered, the pressure to his back quite painful considering the wounds there were still a bit fresh.

“You certainly act like one,” said Arthur. ‘Kid?’ So even Alfred was comparing himself to an animal? And a goat, of all things? Or was that a common way to refer to children in the colonies? “Being defiant for no other reason than to try to prove a silly point, when any adult in this situation would know better.” He gave Alfred’s bottom a gentle pat, then raised his hand, and smacked it with full force.

Alfred screamed out at the sudden hit, squirming a bit as he tried to get more comfortable. “I-Isn’t that similar to what you’re doing?” he asked, bracing himself for pain. He knew Arthur was going to go all out with this after all.

“Of course a child would say that.” Arthur raised his hand once more, and smacked Alfred’s rear twice in quick succession, leaving red handprints where his captive had been struck. “You should consider yourself lucky that I’m not using a cane. If you want to keep it that way, then you will stay your tongue.”

The cane did sound pretty bad, especially since he still had a few welts from the whip left on his ass. Alfred figured it would be best to keep quiet, that is unless the pirate kept talking. He hated listening to the other talk, hated how he would be teased and taunted. It made it hard to keep quiet after all.

Arthur continued to mercilessly swat Alfred’s poor bottom, making it a point to specifically target areas that hadn’t been abused by the whip the other day; he DID want to minimize the amount of wounds that were re-opened, especially if Alfred was going to be on his back getting fucked on his bed. Still, he couldn’t help but taunt him; he was a proud man, and it was in his nature to make sure that others knew their place around him. “Do you understand now? Your rank on this ship? Your lot in life?”

Tears were falling down Alfred’s cheeks by now, hiding his face the best he could. It was so humiliating, he had been so full of himself before and now here he was sobbing again as another man spanked him. “I-It’s not fair,” he sobbed out, not wanting to accept it. 

“Life isn’t fair,” said Arthur simply. “You can either accept that fact and make the most of what you have, or you can make it worse for yourself.” It was a cynical outlook, he knew, but that was simply the way the world worked. Good people got punished, and bad people, like him, sailed the seas making money off of their misery.

“It could have been if you wouldn’t have ruined my life!” Alfred screamed, not going to let the pirate get away with this. His life had been happy and good up until the other had destroyed it, tearing him away from his loved ones.

“But it isn’t, and it won’t be,” said Arthur, smacking Alfred’s rear yet again. It was clear that being nice hadn’t worked out too well. He would have to go the old-fashioned route, and break Alfred down until he was nothing left but a bunch of jagged pieces that could be put back together in whichever manner Arthur deemed fitting. “Your life as it was no longer exists as a result of circumstances outside your control. It makes no difference which circumstances they are. If you can’t adapt to the situation, I’ll certainly end up killing you at some point or another. If you get over it, you may live a little longer. Tell me, Alfred, do you want to live?”

To be honest Alfred wasn't completely sure about that. Yes he wanted to live and escape and find his family but at the same time he wasn't sure if he could keep on living like this, as some pirate's whore. He had to hold on to some hope though, he couldn't give up yet. "I-I want to live.."

“Then you’ll learn to move on,” said Arthur, striking him again. “Are you ready to apologize now?” He continued beating on his captive’s round, reddened bottom, covered with dark handprints. It was plain to see that he wasn’t holding back, to the point where his own hand stung from each impact.

Alfred's ass stung horribly, especially where he had been whipped the previous day. "S-sorry..." he mumbled, hoping that was good enough for the pirate. He really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut if he wanted to survive.

“That hardly sounded sincere. Tell me what it is you’re sorry for. With feeling,” said Arthur. He knew he was being hard on him, but it was obviously necessary. Alfred didn’t learn well if one went easy on him. Arthur had actually been willing to let him share his bed that night, provided he clearly understood that even killing him wouldn’t allow him to escape the ship, but it was quite apparent to him that his newest pet couldn’t be trusted to be that rational.

"I-I'm sorry I spoke so rudely to you," Alfred whimpered, just wanting this humiliating punishment to end. He already knew he wouldn't be able to comfortably sit down for awhile, his ass probably all bruised up. "A-And saying such rude things, it was out of line."

At last, Arthur stopped, letting his hand rest on the bed. “There’s a good lad. Do you think you can lay down on your back after that?” He wasn’t stupid enough to honestly believe that Alfred meant what he said, but getting him to say it was the first step to making him convince himself that it was true. “Or does it hurt too much? It’s fine if it does. You poor thing; it could probably use a break.” He wondered if Alfred would be convinced that he was free from his sexual duties for the day. Because he most certainly wasn’t. He would just be doing them in a different position.

"I don't know..." Alfred muttered, giving a sigh. "It does hurt a lot," his back still hurt too when he laid on it. Plus if the pirate took him in a different position he wouldn't have to look at him. He perked up a bit at the word break, only remembering that it was Arthur speaking and that he highly doubted the pirate would just let him off so easy.

“Very well, we can try something a little different this time,” said Arthur, easing Alfred off of him. “Face away from me, on your hands and knees. I know that your people are quite big on the missionary position, but after all this, I don’t think it matters much anymore.” Besides, he was getting rather bored with the same thing each and every time. He wanted to see the numerous whip marks all over Alfred’s back a few more times before they were fully healed.

Alfred nodded, getting into the position he was told to be in, resting his head against the bed. It was embarrassing but at least he didn't have to look at the other. Plus his wounds wouldn't rub and chafe as well.

“See? Life is so much easier when you do as you’re told, instead of actively making things worse for yourself,” said Arthur, beginning to remove his clothes, and appreciating the nice view. He was tempted to give Alfred’s behind one more slap with his hand, but he didn’t want to discourage him from obedience by punishing him when he was doing the right things. At least, not until he was broken. He’d only ever managed to hold onto a pet long enough to reach that state once, and then he’d ended up killed when they were boarded by privateers seeking to bring them to justice. It was for that reason that he wanted Alfred to know some self-defense. The poor thing was still convinced that he would be saved if someone came aboard. He didn’t understand that in the eyes of the law, everyone on a pirate ship was equally guilty. In his experience, at least.

Alfred’s breathing was heavy as he laid there, waiting for the pirate to move on. He could hear shuffling and clothing and being removed, burying his face in his arms. He felt so exposed, not that he hadn’t been before, but now it somehow felt even worse. At least the pirate couldn’t see his face, and he couldn’t see Arthur’s.

“It’s a shame, really,” continued Arthur, refusing to be content until he had Alfred feeling even worse than he already did. He pressed his cock up against his hole, rubbing the tip up and down. “I wanted so badly to be nice today.” The oil from the lamp should have cooled down by then, even if it was still a bit warm; he wondered if it would make an adequate lubricant.

Alfred squirmed a bit, biting into his bottom lip to keep quiet. Like hell the pirate was wanting to be nice, he was never nice. Sooner or later he would have just went and found some excuse to do this to him anyways.

“Since I’m a merciful man,” said Arthur, and the gravity of the lie was almost such that he couldn’t keep a straight face, “I’ll be a little more forgiving this time than I’ve been in the past.” He dipped his fingers into the oil of the lantern on the nearby table - everything was so closely packed together that it was easy to reach - and eased his slippery fingers into Alfred’s tight entrance.

“Ahn..” Alfred gasped, back arching a bit as the pirate’s fingers penetrated him. He was still so sore back there so the preparation was nice, although he did hate how it would only make it last even longer. Still, it felt kind of nice in an odd sort of way, heat pooling in Alfred’s belly and going straight to his cock.

“There, you’re taking it so much better now than you were before!” praised Arthur. Hopefully the positive reinforcement wouldn’t cause him to act up again. He had to make sure Alfred still felt lowly. “Someday you’ll seek out this stimulation. Perhaps sooner rather than later.” He applied a little more oil, then slipped a second finger in, pushing them in and out at a nice, slow pace. He wanted Alfred to break, but he didn’t want him associating sex with punishment, either. Even if he was using it as that, he wanted the torment to be psychological, not physical.

Alfred hated just how good it felt, the pirate’s fingers feeling so gentle compared to his cock. The slow stretching and thrusting only causing him to let out the occasional moan or whimper that managed to escape his throat. He almost preferred the rough treatment, at least then he wouldn’t be enjoying it so damn much.

The third finger went in next, then the fourth. It was much easier than it had been before, both because of the oil, and because Alfred seemed to have gotten just a bit better at handling it. Still, he was quite tight, despite having so recently been repeatedly double-penetrated. It was kind of impressive, actually. “Tell me how much you love it, you dirty whore.”

“I-I love it,” Alfred whimpered, sobbing into his arms, hips rolling with each movement of Arthur’s fingers. His cock was already getting hard, Arthur’s fingers managing to nudge against his prostate.

“Be more specific, slut,” ordered Arthur firmly, moving his whole arm to really have some force behind each thrust into Alfred’s tight cavern. A devious idea popped into his head, one that, while not exactly painful, would probably startle his pet more than anything he’d done in the past. “Tell me how much you love getting sodomized. Go on.”

Alfred was trembling now in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. “I-I love being sodomized,” he sobbed, knowing it was true. He was enjoying it, or at least his body was. Not that it mattered, God had already given up on him.

“Good. I believe a reward is in order,” said Arthur, removing his fingers. He looked them over, and decided that they looked clean. Without hesitation, he spread the cheeks of Alfred’s ass with both hands, and pressed his tongue against his hole.

Alfred’s eyes went wide at that, feeling the pirate’s warm, soft tongue against his entrance. “Wh-What are you doing?” he asked, feeling a bit disgusted. “Th-That’s gross, that’s gross stop it.”

Arthur pulled his head back just long enough to answer. As usual. “Don’t tell me what to do.” He returned his tongue to the colonist’s entrance, and pushed it in. It didn’t reach as far as his fingers, of course, but he was able to get it a good few centimeters through.

Alfred really didn’t understand what was going on or even why the pirate would put his tongue there of all places. It seemed so disgusting but at the same time it just felt so good, the tongue so gentle compared to his fingers.

Arthur held his hips firmly in place, grimacing only slightly at the taste of oil that still lingered there after his previous actions. Still, it was a better taste than the alternative, so he didn’t mind it all that much. He’d had much worse things in his mouth, courtesy of none other than that frog who dared call himself a captain.

Alfred’s cock was leaking a bit of precum, moans and gasps escaping his throat. It was still so gross, Alfred unsure of why the pirate would ever want to put his mouth there of all places.

For several minutes more, Arthur did nothing but thrust, twist, and wiggle his tongue around inside of Alfred’s hole. It was only after he’d had his fill and gotten bored that he chose to withdraw, unable to stand the anticipation any longer. “Do you want to be filled, little lamb?”

Alfred wanted to say no, but he knew that would be a rather stupid idea. “Y-Yes…” he lied, hoping Arthur would just hurry and get done with it already.

Alas, Arthur wasn’t quite done with him yet. As he coated his cock in the oil from the lamp, he gave Alfred another command. “This is the third time I’ve had to tell you to be more specific, darling. Tell me, what is it that you want?” He wanted to hear him say it, not just give a one-word answer.

“I-I want you inside me…” Alfred whimpered, sobbing into the bed sheets as he said it. Why couldn’t the pirate just get to it already? Why must he be tortured so much? 

“Good lad. You’re quite cute when you behave,” said Arthur, pushing in the tip of his cock. He took his time, as a reward for his pet’s obedience, trying to make sure that Alfred had time to adjust even as every instinct told him to forget about his comfort and pound him into the bed.

Arthur was moving so slowly, so agonizingly slow. It was driving Alfred insane, feeling as every inch of the pirate’s cock penetrated him. “Ah, oh…” he groaned, hands gripping the sheets harshly as he tried to relax.

“Lower your head,” commanded Arthur. “I want your ass to be the only thing in the air.” Truthfully, he just wanted to see if Alfred would obey an order clearly given for the sole purpose of causing him humiliation.

Alfred kept his head down, his ass up in the air as the other told him to. There was no point in fighting it, no matter what the pirate would force him to do it anyways.

Out of patience, Arthur slowly pulled his hips back, checking for blood; when he saw none, he re-sheathed himself, just slightly faster than the initial penetration. “You’re quite hard for one who claims to hate this.”

Alfred didn’t want to think about that, think about the possibility of enjoying this. Not that this was the first time, after all just about every time so far his body had betrayed him. Or maybe he just needed to accept that Arthur was right, and that he was a whore whose only use was to be a slave to a pirate.

“What’s wrong, love? Can’t talk?” asked Arthur, gradually quickening his pace. A few stray beads of sweat gathered on his body and fell down to the body below him, both a result of the activity they were engaged in, and the heat working its way into the ship. Unlike outside, there was shade, but there wasn’t any air circulation. “I’m going to ask you a question, and I want you to answer it truthfully. You won’t be punished, whether or not I like your answer. So tell me, does it feel good?”

Alfred grunted, not sure how to answer such a question. It felt terrible, it was humiliating and dehumanizing. But on the other hand his body was enjoying it, heat pooling in his belly and precum leaking from his cock. “K-Kinda..” he whimpered, deciding to go for a more neutral answer.

“Fair enough,” said the pirate, wrapping an arm around Alfred’s waist to flick his hardened cock with his finger. After all, as far as Alfred was concerned, he was already ‘pregnant.’ He could safely touch it without worry of his charade dying.

Alfred couldn't help the moan that escaped him, almost glad the pirate was touching him at least. This way he could at least keep telling himself that he wasn’t actually enjoying it and it was just his body betraying him.

Arthur took Alfred’s cock in his hand as he pounded into him and pressed his thumb against his slit. “I want you to start touching yourself,” he said. “On a regular basis. Even if I’m not there to do this with you.” There would be no more body shame on his ship. He wanted his pet addicted to pleasures of the flesh. The sooner he accomplished that, the sooner he would stop getting so bent out of shape every time he had to bend over.

Alfred was about to say how that was a sin but quickly realized how stupid that would sound. After all it couldn’t be any worse than letting another man sodomize you as you enjoyed it. “Y-Yes,” he whimpered, not bothering to argue with the pirate. He was feeling close to finishing as Arthur’s fingers wrapped around his cock, hips rolling back against Arthur’s cock.

Even though he didn’t say it, Arthur had a feeling he knew what was on Alfred’s mind. “Don’t worry about it being a sin, or anything. The passage is specifically not to spill your seed on the ground. We’re on a boat. No ground to be found for miles.” He had a fondness for loopholes. Loopholes had gotten him out of quite a few pinches in the past. Speaking of holes, Alfred’s was feeling particularly nice on that occasion; there was something incredibly arousing about having him on all fours like an animal.

Alfred knew it didn’t matter, again he was being used as some fucktoy by a pirate it wasn’t like touching himself would make things worse. It was best to just go along with it. “Ah...oh,” Alfred gasped, eyes screwed tightly shut as he came, his seed spilling onto the bed sheets beneath them.

Arthur didn’t waste any time in filling his pet up with his own seed, none of which was spilled upon the ground; on top of that, he wasn’t even laying with Alfred as he would a woman, since he had a policy against sleeping side by side with the opposite sex; perhaps it was only a result of his choice of career, but every time he tried it, it seemed to result in her disappearing by the morning, and him being short all the gold in his pockets. That was, of course, if he didn’t wake up to them trying to stab him; in fact, just such an incident had marked the last time he ever let himself sleep in the same room as a stranger. He’d had female captives aboard his ship before, of course, but he’d never actually, literally slept with any of them; they’d all either killed themselves or been killed before he got to that point.

Alfred groaned as he felt the pirate fill him up, disgust washing over him as he came back to his senses. He hoped the pirate would leave him alone now, take him back to the brig and just let him sleep. Sleep seemed to be the only time he ever had any peace nowadays. Every moment he was awake was either spent being taunted by the crew members or tortured by that damn pirate.

Well, he was going to send Alfred back to his cell for his disobedience, but… As bad an idea as it was, Arthur didn’t really want to give him the satisfaction. Besides, he’d been able to look at things logically when he had a gun. It seemed a safe bet that after being taken down a notch, he would be in a reasonable state of mind. “Since you’ve done such a great job of apologizing, I think a little reward is in order,” said Arthur, though he wasn’t sure if Alfred would really consider it a ‘reward.’

“What’s the reward?” Alfred asked, voice muffled as he kept his face buried in his arms. He highly doubted he would enjoy this “reward” but it had to be better than any punishment he figured.

“I want you to sleep in here tonight,” said Arthur. “The initial shock seems to have worn off, so I’m going to allow you to be out and about as long as we’re not in port.” In port, he would still have to remain locked away; he wasn’t yet broken enough to be trusted not to escape. “Don’t worry about being harassed by the men. They know better than to touch what isn’t theirs without permission, now that I’ve given you permission to be outside your cell. Naturally, they’ll still keep an eye on you to make sure you don’t try to do anything stupid, but you can feel free to go around and learn from them how we do things. You’ll be expected to work, of course; I can’t have you taking up resources without getting anything but sex in return. However, initially, you’ll be started on simple tasks, like cleaning, so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about the specifics.” As he spoke, he was already cleaning himself up and getting dressed. For once, he’d had the foresight to bring rags to wipe the two of them off.

Alfred stayed where he was, lying on his stomach with his face buried in the sheets. It would hurt way too much to lay down on his back he knew. He really didn’t want to sleep with the pirate, knowing it was just the other’s way of torturing him more under a guise of being kind and thoughtful. “Do I still have to wear the dress?”

“When you’re off-duty, I want you in the dress,” said Arthur. “However, given that it’s impractical for work, I will provide you with a set of working clothes.” He knew, as unfortunate as it was, that having Alfred raise the anchor, hoist the sails, or move things around the ship would be downright impossible in a dress. “You will also be expected to wear the dress for simpler tasks, like sweeping or mopping the deck. If you wish to be out of it, I suggest you learn more complicated skills quickly.”

Well, it was better than being in the dress all the time Alfred figured and at least he wouldn’t have to go without any clothes. “I’m tired,” he mumbled, his eyelids feeling rather heavy. He had no idea what time it was but he felt like he could sleep for the rest of the day.

“Well, I have work to do, I’m afraid,” said Arthur, standing up to put his clothes on. “Feel free to get some rest. If you feel up for coming outside, your clothes are on the chair. Just ask one of the men where I am. Go right ahead and finish up the remaining food, too.” He wasn’t particularly hungry right then. “If you can’t finish it, tell one of the men; we can’t let anything go to waste.”

Alfred nodded, waiting until Arthur left before getting up. His stomach was rumbling a bit and he didn’t want to let good food go to waste, sitting down and finishing up his portion. He was exhausted though, finishing quickly before hopping back in the bed, closing his eyes and quickly falling asleep.


	6. Chapter 6

It was a good day to be in port. The skies were growing cloudy, indicating that rainfall was soon to come. The men were quite pleased that it meant they wouldn’t be spending yet another day working in awful weather, and would instead be focused on unloading cargo. Illegally obtained cargo, perhaps, but as far as the merchants were concerned, they were legitimate traders seeking to unload the many wares they’d picked up back east. Besides, even those who caught on weren’t about to call them on it; they’d engaged in enough under-the-table trade with the French that the law wasn’t going to stop the vast majority of them from buying their questionably-obtained goods. Unfortunately for Alfred, being in port for him meant being locked up in his cell; Arthur didn’t yet trust him not to run away, and rightfully so.

Alfred was lying on his pile of rags, not necessarily tired but rather bored. He was clad in his dress to keep him warm. It was a cooler day and being left nude left him too cold. He knew they were in port, Arthur had told him, which meant he being locked up in his cell. If only he could get out and escape, find someone to help him.

It was around the middle of the day, when the sun was at its highest - though it couldn’t be seen from below deck - when one of the pirates entered the brig, a plate in hand. He muttered angrily to himself as he took the keys. “Fucking hate this… Who do they think they are, making me bring him his damned food? What do I look like, a servant?” He swung the door of Alfred’s cell open and practically dropped the dish on the ground. “There, you stinking whore!”

Alfred flinched as he heard someone enter, sitting up now. "A whore who's getting better treatment than you," he spat back, not appreciating the man's insults to him. It wasn't like the pirate could do anything to him anyways without Arthur knowing and getting angry.

“Just you wait,” spat the pirate, slamming the cell door shut. He was so angry, in fact, that he didn’t even properly hang the keyring on the hook where it belonged, choosing instead to slam it down angrily on the table. “You’ll be dead by the end of the month. Sooner or later, all of the captain’s beloved little pets end up at the bottom of the ocean.” Without another word, he turned around to leave.

Alfred simply shot the man a glare as he watched the man leave, waiting until he was gone before reaching and taking a few sips of the water he was brought. As he was sipping though he couldn't help but spot something shiny, eyes darting to the object only to see the keyring there. Was it some trap? No it couldn't be, Arthur wouldn't take that risk while they were in port. Knowing this would be his chance at escape Alfred waited a few minutes, eating a little to get some energy, before grabbing the keyring and unlocking the door.

As he peeked out he saw no one, carefully making his way up on deck. The only person he saw was a rather bored looking pirate who was facing the other way. Luckily his back was turned so Alfred easily slipped off the ship and onto land. He didn't even care if he was in a dress, he needed to go find someone to help him.

Alfred was in luck; the majority of the men of whom would ordinarily be busy carrying cargo on and off the ship were on break, leaving the dock clear of anyone who knew him. There were, however, sailors from other ships, as well as customs agents seeking to inspect the many goods being imported. It was only minutes before he was spotted by one of the latter, who had the most startled and genuinely disturbed expression on his face.

“Wh-what in God’s name?”

Alfred turned around as he heard someone speak, so glad that it was in English too. He ran up to the man who he assumed had been the one who had just spoken. "You hafta help me I was kidnapped by a pirate when he destroyed my village and he made me his wife and I think I might be pregnant," Alfred rambled on, not even stopping to take a breath.

The customs official could only stare at Alfred with wide, startled eyes, slowly processing the information that had just been fed to him. A man, in women’s clothing, from a ship, claiming to be the pregnant wife of a pirate. There was not a single part of that sentence that sounded sane. “What on earth…? Why are you wearing a dress?”

"I just told you!" Alfred shouted, realizing that maybe he should keep a little more quiet. "The pirate is making me, he keeps saying I'm his new wife and that I'm gonna have his babies and you need to help me."

“T-the pirate is… The pirate is making you wear a dress,” repeated the customs official. What sort of nonsense was the boy spouting? It sounded like the rambling of a person possessed by a demon! Perhaps, he decided, it was best to take him back to shore, seeking an exorcism? On the other hand, returning him to whoever his caretakers had apparently been up until that moment sounded like an apt plan. “Listen, lad, why don’t you just tell me where you came from? Can you remember?”

Alfred sighed, holding in any tears that threatened to form. "I'm from the more northern colonies," Alfred answered, noticing that the man had a similar accent to himself and realizing they must still be in the colonies. 

Well, that was incredibly unhelpful in figuring out which ship he’d come off of. “I-I’ll just take you back to the customs office for now, shall I? Right this way, umm, sir,” he said, beckoning warily for Alfred to follow. He’d never seen anything quite like it before; apparently, neither had any of his peers, because every single man they passed could only turn and stare at the oddity as they walked by.

Alfred nodded, following the man. He hated all the stares he was getting but it was inevitable, after all he was a man walking around in a dress. He couldn't help but cautiously look around as he walked, scared that any second Arthur would appear.

It was several minutes before they arrived at the customs office; the official quickly ushered Alfred inside, rather embarrassed to be seen in public with such an abnormality. His peers all let out collective gasps of shock and surprise, a man in a dress having been the last thing they expected to see that morning. With a look of reluctance, the official that had escorted Alfred to the building brought him into the back room, where several other men followed. “So, ah, um… Tell them all exactly what you told me,” he said, in response to the looks of morbid curiosity on the faces of the others.

Alfred was blushing, rather embarrassed at how he looked. Still he needed to get help no matter what. "I was kidnapped by a pirate who destroyed my village and he insisted on making me his wife and he keeps telling me I'm pregnant and hurting me," Alfred said, taking a deep breath afterwards.

“...What.”

That seemed to be the unanimous response to his tale. It wasn’t even a question. It was merely an exclamation; an audible expression of complete and utter bewilderment. Not one of them was quite sure what to make of such a story, nor were they sure what the best action to take would be from there.

“Excuse us for just a moment,” said one of the men, motioning for the others to join him over on the other side of the room in a huddle.

“Sir,” whispered one of the men. “This boy is absolutely insane! He must be possessed, or something!”

“I don’t know, what if he’s telling the truth?” said another.

“The truth? You expect me to believe that there’s anything factual in that huge heap of nonsense?”

Alfred could hear a little bit of what the men were saying, about ready to just run off and find someone else. "I'm not lying!" He cried out, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Why did they not believe him? Did these men somehow know Arthur? But even if they did they had no way of knowing who he was.

One of the men returned to Alfred’s side to calm him down, a bit concerned about such an outburst from an obvious madman. “Easy, there. We’re going to get you home, okay? It’s just…” Excuse, excuse… “If what you said is true, we need to get a priest in here right away to cleanse you!” He didn’t dare take such an abomination to holy ground, but they had to get rid of whatever terrible spirit had taken over his body. “Please, just have a seat. Everything is going to be just fine, I promise.”

"Cleanse me?" Alfred asked, wondering what they meant. Was he to confess his sins? Even if he did he doubted he would be forgiven. "There's no point, I've sinned too much already," a few tears were falling down his cheeks now, Alfred reaching up to wipe them away.

The man wasn’t sure what to say to that. “Umm, hush, now, nobody is beyond redemption,” said the man, still unwilling to touch him for fear of possession. “We’ve already sent someone to retrieve a priest. He’s going to expel the evil from you, okay?” None of what he was going through had been a part of his job training! “Deep breaths, now…”

"I'm not possessed though!" Alfred shouted as he heard that, realizing that these men thought that he had some devil inside of him. "I just need help to get away from the pirate."

The shouting was only serving to make things worse. “Easy, easy! Everything is going to be fine, okay? You just have to calm down.” He didn’t really want to set the lunatic in front of him off; he looked fairly strong, beneath the dress, whereas he himself was in his mid-fifties. “N-now, I have an idea! My friends and I are just going to, you know, wrap you up in some rope to keep you safe from the pirate, okay?” A pair of other officials came up from behind him with rope in their hands.

“R-Rope?” Alfred asked, not liking where this was going. These men clearly weren’t going to help him, he needed to find someone else. A lot of the men looked older so perhaps he would be able to make an escape. Quickly he pushed the man nearest him away and made a dash towards the door.

“After him!” said the man who looked to be in charge. Before Alfred could reach the door, they’d already blocked it off, doing their best to attempt to surround him. They couldn’t simply let a dress-wearing maniac out onto the streets. God only knew what someone that crazy was capable of.

Alfred looked around, trying to find a way past these people. “Let me go!” he cried out, trying to push the men at the door away. He knew that once he could get out he would be able to outrun these men.

“Don’t let him escape!” said one of the men, as they slowly closed in on him. Although he was young and strong enough to take them on one on one, their numbers gave them the advantage; one man grabbed one arm, another grabbed the other. Before he could try kicking them, a third grabbed both of his legs, and they carried him off to the chair and held him down while they tied him up.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” Alfred screamed, tears starting to fall down his cheeks. He didn’t understand why these men weren’t helping him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. Were they going to find Arthur and tell him?

“Good news!” said one of the men, coming through the door. An old man filed in after him, wearing all black with a wooden cross around his neck. One could tell at first glance that he was a priest. “We found someone willing to take on the job!”

The priest strolled up to Alfred, a warm look in his eyes; right or not, he seemed to have good intentions. “Good afternoon, my child.”

“G-Good afternoon..” Alfred replied, not quite sure what else to say. Obviously his rambling of what had been happening to him had been ineffective. He just hoped Arthur wouldn’t find him in here and that maybe after all of this he would be let free.

“You seem a bit lost, child,” said the priest, kneeling down in front of him and placing his hands on Alfred’s knees.

“W-wait, don’t touch him! The demon might get you!” cried one of the shaking men off to the side.

The priest paid him no heed. “They tell me you come from the north. Are you from a Puritan village?”

“Yes, yes I was until a pirate came and destroyed the village,” Alfred said, hoping the priest would listen to him. “He kidnapped me and made me his wife,” he left the pregnant part out for now, especially since he wasn’t even sure if he was pregnant.

“Is that so?” said the priest, nodding patiently. While the others looked on with deeply disturbed expressions, he appeared understanding of the situation. “The man that came to me said you claimed to have been pregnant. Is this true?”

“Well...the pirate said I’d get pregnant if I uh, finished without him even touching me,” Alfred’s voice got more quiet at that last part, a deep blush on his cheeks. He felt so dirty saying such things to a priest.

“Finished?” repeated the priest, looking a tad bit perplexed. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific, child.” He raised his hand and rested it on Alfred’s head. “Fear not, boy. To confess your sin is the first step to redemption. But until I understand the full gravity of what happened, I can’t hope to assign you penance.”

Alfred really did not want to explain such things to a priest, although it really was unavoidable. “Uh, like, wh-when you’re having sex and you like, finish.” he stuttered, unable to look the man in the eye. “The pirate told me that uh, if I finished without him touching me I’d be pregnant.”

“I see. So this ‘pirate’ you speak of sodomized you?” said the priest, and his words caused the customs officials that surrounded them to gasp with horror. One even went so far as to cover his mouth as though he were about to vomit, then ran off, presumably to do just that. “Don’t fear to look at me. I am only a man, as sinful as any other. Your honesty should be applauded. Now, we can begin the healing process.”

“H-He did. I didn’t want to do it he made me,” Alfred cried, hoping that saying that would make things at least a bit better. He didn’t want everyone thinking that he had chosen to do such a sinful thing. “Please, get me out of here before he finds me.”

“Hush, child,” said the priest, getting to his feet. “Ordinarily, the act of sodomy would be subject to severe punishment. However, given the circumstances, I believe an exception can be made.” He reached into the pocket of his robes, and pulled out a copy of the Bible. “For these acts were not of your doing. The pirate you speak of is a demon, child; the spawn of Satan. I feel its evil living within you, guiding your actions with its wretched hands! Fear not, child, for I shall purge this creature from your body!” He raised the Bible up high, then brought it down on Alfred’s head with enough force to bruise.

Alfred screamed out in pain, having not expected to be smacked with a bible. “He’s a real pirate! With a ship and crew and everything and he kidnapped me!” he was sobbing now, not understanding why no one was believing him. His story couldn’t sound that crazy could it?

“Hear me now, demon!” roared the priest, his voice full of passion. “I command you to leave this boy! Away with you and your foul aura! Begone!” He smacked Alfred over the head with the Bible once more. “Begone!” And again. “BEGONE!” And again. At times he bludgeoned him from the top, and at other times, from the sides.

Each time he was hit Alfred screamed out, sobbing and hiccupping. “P-Please why don’t you believe me?” he sobbed, shoulders trembling. He just wanted to get somewhere safe and find his family again was that too much to ask?

As though the holy smackdown weren’t enough, the priest’s next course of action was to splash him with what seemed to be a glass vial of holy water. “In the name of the Lord God!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs. “Free this child from your tyranny! BEGONE!”

Alfred flinched as he was splashed, shaking his head to get the droplets off of him. He was quiet now except for his sobs, hoping that after this they would let him go. He couldn’t help if this was another punishment from God for all of the bad things he had done.

The exorcism stretched on for what seemed like hours. While not quite that long in reality, Alfred was forced to endure some time getting beaten and splashed, occasionally being made to listen to a prayer or two in between. It was only after a good forty minutes or so that the door opened, and a man hurried in to speak.

“You’ll never believe this!” he said. “A man has come in asking about a boy that matches his description! He claims to be his father!”

Alfred was in a bit of a daze from all the abuse, only perking up when he heard the news. “N-No!” he screamed, the first words he had said in awhile now. “It’s the pirate, don’t let him in!” His heart was pounding in his chest now, hoping to God it was someone else.

Sure enough, though, the man that entered through the door was the last person that Alfred hoped to see; a man with distinct bushy eyebrows, green eyes, and a mainland accent. He had tears in his eyes and a look of distress on his face, and his eyes were red and puffy as though he’d been rubbing them restlessly. It was clear he’d gone through such displays before; every bit of his act seemed legitimate.

“Alfred?” he whispered, as though in disbelief. “Oh, Alfred! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Alfred’s eyes widened as he saw the pirate. “No, get the hell away from me!” he screamed, beginning to struggle in his bindings. “Th-That’s the pirate who’s been doing all of that to me!” 

“Is it true?” asked one of the customs officials. “What he said, is it all true?”

“Of course it isn’t true, you idiot!” snapped one of the other officials before Arthur could respond.

Arthur, meanwhile, made a big show of looking embarrassed, going so far as to flush red and cover his mouth with his hand. “My sincerest thanks. I was terribly worried,” said Arthur.

“Hold on, you sound like you’re from the mainland! This boy claimed to be a Puritan, from the north!” said the priest, raising an eyebrow.

Arthur didn’t miss a beat on his answer. “Well, I’m not his real father, you see; we’re quite distantly related, in fact.” It seemed he intended to explain away the lack of a family resemblance. “After pirates killed his parents… I’m all he has left.” He even had the gall to look deeply saddened, as though he were remembering something painful. “Poor boy was shattered. He’s been mad as a hatter ever since. I’m trying to teach him the merchants’ trade, but, well, as you can see, it’s not easy.” He pressed his hand to his forehead. “He won’t stop going on about pirates doing all sorts of terrible, hedonistic things to him, and he won’t stop wearing his mother’s old dresses.”

“I… I see,” said the priest, and those in the room began to appear more sympathetic, not just to Alfred, but to Arthur.

“He’s lying!” Alfred shouted, unable to believe what he was hearing. How could Arthur walk in and lie so easily? “He’s the pirate who’s doing these things to me!” It felt hopeless, after all they all thought he had been possessed.

It was no use. “Oh, Alfred, what’s happened to you?” said Arthur softly, hurrying to his side to touch the bruises covering his body. “My poor boy…” He looked straight into Alfred’s eyes, and for the briefest of moments, there was a glimmer of his true emotions; they were not happy. That one shared glance was all he needed to communicate to Alfred that he was in deep shit.

“Do you need help getting him back to your ship, Mr. Fisher?” asked one of the men, and it was apparent that Arthur had given them an alias.

“That won’t be necessary,” said Arthur, untying Alfred’s bonds. In his eyes, though, the soft tone was prefaced by a very clear, ‘Try to run, and you’re dead.’

Alfred knew calling for help was useless, the priest and the officials all believed Arthur over him, who sounded like a raving lunatic. He slowly stood up, holding onto Arthur for support. His body was too weak from the constant sobbing and being bludgeoned in the head with large books. He stayed silent even as they left, simply waiting and hoping the pirate wouldn’t kill him.

“I shall pray for your son’s recovery,” said the priest, a tear in his eye from what he perceived as a tragic tale.

Arthur smiled. “Thank you, father. I have faith that God will show him the light one day!” As genuine as a smile it was, it seemed a bit tight as he turned around, as though he were struggling not to laugh.

For the entire walk back down to the end of the dock, Arthur played the role of a doting parent concerned for their adopted child’s well-being. He helped Alfred walk by supporting part of his weight, he whispered comforting words into his ear, and he blushed and looked away from anyone on the other ships that turned to stare at the man in a dress, as though he were embarrassed to be seen. When they reached the steep wooden ramp leading up to the main deck of his ship, the Unicorn, he guided him up the steps with loving attention.

It was only after they were out of both sight and earshot on the main deck of the ship that he shoved Alfred down on the wooden floor onto his back, stomped on his stomach, and held him there beneath his boot. “Line up!” he roared, as though all of his bottled up fury were contained in those two words. Sure enough, the many men of the ship were quick to assemble before him in a perfectly straight line, without a word exchanged. It was clear from the look on their faces that they were all completely and utterly terrified. “I’m only going to ask this once! Which of you was responsible for him?”

All fingers pointed straight towards the man who’d been tasked with giving Alfred his lunch earlier. Needless to say, his face went very pale, very quickly.

“I-it wasn’t my fault! I swear!” said the man, looking about ready to pass out with terror.

Arthur looked skeptical. He turned his head down to Alfred, and lightened the pressure on his stomach just enough to allow him to speak. “Tell me who was responsible for your escape. If you can’t manage that much, you will be tied up, raped, castrated, skinned alive, and tossed into the ocean with rocks tied around your red, bloody carcass.” He had a look in his eye that said the threat was genuine.

As much as Alfred hated just about every crew member on Arthur’s ship, and really didn’t like the man who had accidentally let him go, Arthur’s threat was enough. “Th-That man,” He muttered, pointing up at the man who had just spoken. He felt terrible, knowing he was sentencing the man to death, but he had to save himself.

“Good. Your punishment shall be reduced,” said Arthur, putting pressure on Alfred’s gut once more. “Just shy of death. Unfortunately,” he added, turning to the man responsible, “I can’t say the same for you.”

“Wh-what? No!” screamed the man as the others grabbed him by the arms to hold him in place. “It’s not my fault! It’s not my fault! I don’t even know how he got out! PLEASE!”

“Take him to the cell beside Alfred’s,” ordered Arthur, jerking his thumb in the direction of the hatch that led below deck. “We can’t skin him this close to shore.”

“NO! God, please, no!” cried the man, who’d begun sobbing incoherently. “I’ll do anything, please! Please don’t kill me!”

That was all that could be heard as he was dragged below deck, his heels digging into the deck. Arthur sighed. “You can always tell someone’s true character by the way they act when they know they’re going to die.” He brushed his hair out of his face and smiled down at Alfred. “How pathetic.”

Alfred watched as the man was dragged below deck. Sure, a small part of him was glad to see the man going, remembering just how cruel he had been. But he still couldn’t help but feel a bit bad. He’d ask the pirate for a quicker death for the man if not for the boot pressing painfully in his stomach and the fact that Arthur was even more angry at him.

“Williams!” barked Arthur, his mood still sour. “You’re in charge of negotiations. I won’t have us losing gold because of this incident! Get moving!”

“Yes, sir!” said one of the men, bringing his arm up and motioning for the others to pick up the nearby crates. “Come on, you lot! We’ve got work to do!”

Arthur turned his attention back to his disobedient little pet. He lifted his foot, then stomped on Alfred’s belly once again before he got off, grabbed Alfred by the collar of his dress, and hoisted him up onto his feet. “So, you thought you could get away from Captain Arthur Kirkland, did you?”

Alfred coughed, hacking and sucking in air before he was suddenly yanked up. He kept quiet at the question, knowing that a no would just be a lie but a yes would just make Arthur even more upset. “I-I’m sorry..” he whimpered, legs feeling weak. “Please, I’m sorry.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel bad?” asked Arthur, letting go with one hand so he could punch Alfred right in the eye. “Am I supposed to allow you to go without punishment because you gave me an insincere apology?” He laughed, and spit in his face. “You’re even stupider than I thought. But don’t fret, love. You did as I asked. So I won’t kill you.” He beckoned for one of the pirates that appeared to be about to grab a crate to come over. “You might wish you could die, though.”

Alfred screamed as he was punched, head rolling back. It hurt, Alfred knowing he’d probably have a swollen black eye later. “Wh-What are you gonna do to me?” he asked, tears running down his face.

The man Arthur had beckoned for came up from behind and grabbed Alfred, holding him in a full nelson and leaving him unable to escape or defend himself.

“Well, first of all,” said Arthur, raising his leg to kick Alfred straight in the gut, “we’re going to have a little confession of our own.” The second one was even higher, striking him square in the chest. “I want you to apologize for all of your sins. But not the ones you know. Seeing as I’m God on this ship, you’ll be apologizing for all of your crimes against me. We’ve already covered running away.” He slammed his heel against Alfred’s shin. “Next, I want an apology for lying about being sorry.”

Alfred was barely left standing, his legs shaking and his entire body sore. “I-I’m sorry I lied earlier,” he coughed, hoping that would be good enough for the man. Even now his apology wasn’t sincere but he couldn’t exactly force himself to feel a certain way.

“Good,” said Arthur, setting his leg down and opting to punch Alfred with a right hook across his face; he was careful not to use enough force to pop his jaw out, but he made sure that he was only just short of doing so. “Now tell me you’re sorry for being such an ugly slut, unworthy of my attention.”

Again, Alfred could only scream as he was hit. He swore he was tasting some blood, quickly checking with his tongue to make sure all his teeth were still intact. “I-I’m sorry I’m an ugly slut who doesn’t deserve your attention,” he whimpered, sniffling a bit.

“There’s my good pet,” said Arthur, cupping his bruised cheek. He was covered in bruises by then, both from Arthur’s beatings, and those of the priest back in the customs house. “I don’t ask for very much, you know. Just that you submit to your master. I’ve been very fair to you; I could simply beat you whenever you disobey, but instead I’ve gone so far as to reward you for good behavior.” He pulled his hand away, then smacked Alfred across the face. “When, I wonder, will all my efforts sink into that thick skull of yours? When will you be a good little dog?” He took a step back, seeing Alfred’s trembling legs. “Tie him to the mast.”

“Which way, sir?” asked the pirate holding Alfred up. “With his back or chest exposed?”

“Chest facing the mast. I want his back exposed. Don’t bind his legs, and make sure you tie his arms low enough that he’s made to bend over.”

Alfred was sure he was going to be used again by the pirates, opening his mouth to beg but only having a sob escaping his throat. He’d surely pass out by the time this was all over. He was already so tired and exhausted from the attempted exorcism after all.

“Oh, what’s the matter, poppet?” cooed Arthur as Alfred was forcefully stripped of his bloomers and dragged towards the mast. “Are you afraid you’ll collapse?” He took a look around. One of the men was bringing a crate back onto the ship. “Is that empty? Put it under him, so he’s bent over the crate when you tie him up. Can’t have him collapsing on me.”

Alfred was dragged over, arms tied around the mast with the empty crate underneath him. He was still standing but forced to bend over, his stomach against the hard crate. “Wh-What are you gonna do to me?” he asked, trying to crane his head to look at Arthur.

“Well, I’ve already whipped you,” said Arthur, appearing indecisive, though the looks on the faces of the crew and the way they seemed to know exactly how to position him without even being told said otherwise. “I could whip you across the chest, instead, but I don’t want any of your little pleasure buttons getting shredded.” One of the men had retrieved what appeared to be a rod with a certain shape on the end, like the sort of tool used to brand cows. Another carried over a rusty iron bucket full of all sorts of flammable material, like dry grass and wood. From there, they filled it with some sort of oil, then pulled a tinderbox out of their pocket. They pulled their hands back quickly after igniting the fire, which roared in the bucket. Finally, the rod was placed into the fire, its purpose all too obvious.

Alfred did his best to look behind him, eyes going wide as he saw the brand. He had been a farmer after all, he wasn’t stupid. “Please, please don’t!” he screamed, flinching a bit as the fire was set. He had a feeling of where Arthur was going to brand him, more tears flowing down his face.

“What’s the problem?” asked Arthur, letting go of the metal rod. It would take some time to heat up; he would have to have his fun toying with the poor bastard while he waited. “You took the earring so well. This should be nothing.” That was a lie, of course. He knew from experience that the pain of a brand was much worse than the pain of getting a piercing on the earlobe. He slapped Alfred’s exposed bottom, still covered in mostly-healed whip marks, and still bruised from the previous day’s punishment.

Alfred whimpered, turning his head back and leaning it against the mast. Begging was useless, the pirate would brand him no matter what and it was best to just go along with it. Still, after today’s events he abandoned any hope for a rescue.

With the metal still only partially warmed, Arthur took the opportunity to raise his leg and prod Alfred’s sack with his boot; his limp cock wasn’t exactly easy to reach from such a position, but it was still pressed helplessly against the wooden crate. “Do you want to beg for mercy, Alfred? Maybe I should brand right here, instead!” he joked, applying a bit of pressure to his captive’s exposed scrotum.

It was painful, but nothing compared to what the branding would be. “N-No please not there,” he begged, voice barely coming out. He really didn’t want his man bits to be ruined like that. “A-Anywhere but there.”

Arthur pressed a little harder. “It would be so easy to crush them, like you are now. You don’t deserve them, anyway.” He pulled his leg back, and gave them a light kick from below. He loved the look of absolute desperation on Alfred’s face. “Beg for mercy. If you cry hard enough, maybe I’ll let you keep it.” He pulled a knife from his pocket. “Or I could make a true woman out of you.”

“P-Please don’t,” Alfred sobbed, pain pooling down in his stomach from being kicked in such a sensitive area. “P-Please don’t do that, please,” he was getting hysterical, his sobbing and blubbering making less and less sense.

“Not even your begging is any good,” said Arthur, moving to Alfred’s side and reaching around to press the tip of the blade against the exposed underside of his cock. “You’re supposed to offer me whatever I want. Plead with me to forgive you. Tell me you’ll never do it again.” He pushed the knife just a little more against Alfred’s vulnerable sex and smiled. “Tell me how unworthy you are.”

“I-I’m unworthy,” Alfred whimpered, trying to shy away from the cold blade against his sac. “A-And I’ll do whatever you want just please forgive me,” It had to be a bluff, it just had to be.

“You’re simply awful at this,” scolded Arthur, turning to look at the rod that one of his men was still holding in the fire. They lifted it up, and it appeared to be taking on a mild red glow. Just a little longer, and it would be ready. As they put the rod back into the flaming bucket, he continued applying pressure to the knife. “I shouldn’t have to tell you everything that you have to say. Be creative. Tell me all the ways you’ll be my good little slut! What sorts of things do you intend to do for me, as my pet?”

Alfred wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind to be thinking of such things although the knife against him was rather good persuasion. “I-I’ll uh, wh-whatever you want,” He didn’t know what all he could do really, aside from what they had already done. “S-Suck you or bend over I-I won’t complain either, I can even pretend like I enjoy it.”

Arthur sighed. “You colonists are so ineloquent,” he said, deciding he couldn’t really hope for better than that. He removed the knife from its spot against Alfred’s genitalia and placed it back in his coat pocket. “I should cut it off, but I suppose I’ll applaud your effort. Besides, the blood would make such a terrible mess.” He walked over to the rod and took it from the hands of the man holding it, then shooed them away as he lifted it out of the flames. The metal was bright red; perfect. “You may want to take a deep breath, darling.”

Alfred could feel the heat from where he was, keeping his forehead pressed against the mast and his gaze downwards. He took a few deep breaths, trying to prepare himself. It would be over soon he kept telling himself, he just had to endure it for a little longer.

“Hold him steady. I don’t want him messing it up because he squirms!” ordered Arthur, and two men stood over Alfred to place their hands on his lower back and keep him pinned firmly in place. “And gag him so his screams aren’t heard from port.” He’d be able to explain it away as Alfred’s insanity, if push came to shove, but he really preferred not to have to toss anything aside and drag Alfred out of sight before someone came aboard. One of the men shoved a piece of cloth into Alfred’s mouth, serving the double purpose of muffling him, and giving him something to bite down on. Finally, without any further delay, Arthur pressed the burning metal to Alfred’s round buttocks.

Searing pain shot through Alfred's body, feeling his skin sizzle and burn. His screams muffled thankfully by the cloth. It was way worse than the piercing, even worse than the whip, his legs giving out and only having the crate as well as the two pirates to hold him up.

It didn’t even last a minute, but Arthur was absolutely delighted by Alfred’s agonized howls. “You see? You wouldn’t have to go through this if you just did as you were told.” The skin that had been branded was a mixture of red and black; it would take some time before it fully healed. Yet another thing to add to the list of things Alfred needed to recover from. The letters had come out nicely; his men had done a good job of holding his pet still. He would have to remember to give them a little something extra for their trouble. He couldn’t help but admire the way his initials looked; it was probably the best branding job yet.

Alfred continued to scream even as the brand was pulled away. It felt like his flesh was literally being cooked, the smell of burnt flesh surrounding them. He wouldn't be able to lay on his back for a long time he knew, his entire body trembling in pain.

It wasn’t over just yet, though. Unwilling to have such a perfect brand get infected, Arthur took a bottle of alcohol that one of the men had brought over for just such a purpose, and poured it over the burned flesh. “Poor thing. You must be in such pain right now. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get a front-row seat to watch the execution of the man responsible for letting you out. It’s partially his fault that you’re suffering right now.” He moved over to let someone wrap bandages around the the afflicted area; they had to be at a diagonal angle in order to cover it without blocking off Alfred’s rectum or genitalia. “I don’t suppose you’d like a few shots of rum to numb the pain?” He ripped the cloth out of Alfred’s mouth so he could speak.

The alcohol only made the pain worse, although Alfred figured he should be thankful that the wound was being cleaned at least. “I-I don’t wanna watch it,” he said, voice raspy and quiet from all his screaming. “I-I’ll take some rum though,” he said, knowing it would help dull the pain at least a little.

“I don’t care what you want,” said Arthur flatly. “It’s your own fault, you know. I never would have known of his incompetence had you stayed in your cell. His death is your doing.”

“He was an asshole, anyway,” muttered one of the pirates to another. They didn’t seem to have a huge appreciation for life. Unsurprising, given that almost every man on the ship had most likely been exposed to death before.

“You will watch his execution,” said Arthur. “Now, someone fetch a glass and a bottle of rum.” He began untying Alfred, trusting that he wouldn’t run off again. Not only was he weakened by the abuse, but all the officials thought he was just a madman.

Alfred’s arms were shaking as he was untied, sinking down to his knees now. His legs were too weak to hold him up, his entire body feeling like a wet noodle. He didn’t want to watch an execution, sure the pirate had been mean, and Alfred didn’t particularly like the man, but he wasn’t sure if he could watch someone being murdered like that.

An idea formed in Arthur’s mind. A terrible, awful idea. Something mind-numbingly cruel, to shatter his runaway pet’s spirit. “You know what?” said Arthur, appearing to reconsider, and kneeling beside Alfred. “I won’t have you watch the execution. My apologies, that’s a dreadful idea.”

Alfred sighed in relief at that, using the crate to lean against. “Thanks, I don’t think I could do it,” his puritan upbringing had taught him that murder was wrong. Sure the puritans did hangings but his village for the most part had been small and peaceful so Alfred was never really exposed to such things.

“You’re right, it’s not right for someone your age to watch an execution,” said Arthur, his eyes growing cold and cruel, even more so than usual. “If you’re going to live on this ship with the rest of us, you have to know how to kill. I’m going to have you execute him.”

Even some of his other men stopped to look at him with shock; certainly, they’d all had to kill for the first time at one point or another, but Arthur had never explicitly asked one of his pets to do so. Usually he preferred to keep them as docile and non-hostile as could be, at least until they finished their training. But Arthur had a feeling that Alfred was the type of person who would be broken more by being forced to kill than by simply being abused. If he could get him to do something so overtly cruel, perhaps he would grow more obedient in order to cope. Either way, it would be entertaining.

“Wh-What?” Alfred asked, eyes going wide as he turned to look at the pirate. “Y-You’re joking right?” It had to be a joke, a cruel joke that the pirate was making just to torment him further. There was no way he could execute another person. How would he even do it? Would he have to shoot the other? Push him overboard?

“Is something the matter, Alfred?” asked Arthur, placing his hand up under Alfred’s chin. “You seemed so eager to kill me before. Didn’t you come at me with a knife? What makes killing him any harder than killing me? It’s not as though he intentionally let you go. He’s keeping you captive just as much as I am, and he doesn’t care if you’re raped or killed.” He took Alfred by the arm and stood up to try and help his captive to his feet.

Alfred stood up, legs shaking as he held on to the pirate for support. Yes, he had tried to take Arthur’s life, but that was so he could escape, killing this man wouldn’t help him any. “Please don’t make me,” he whimpered. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

“You promised me that before,” said Arthur, pulling Alfred’s arm up around his shoulders. “And yet here we are.” He began guiding Alfred back below deck, to his cell; he couldn’t have his pet trying to escape again, in his desperation. “Seeing as you’ll be in the cell right next to his, with nothing between you but bars, I’m going to have to advise you not to get too well-acquainted. It’ll only make tomorrow harder.” He chuckled. “Not that he’ll be happy to see you, anyway.”

Alfred whimpered, almost asking if he could sleep with Arthur that night, although he knew the answer would of course be a no. Hopefully the man wouldn’t try and talk to him while he was down in the brig, he just wanted this entire thing to be over with.

Predictably enough, when they entered the room, the man in the cell beside Alfred’s immediately reached through the bars in an attempt to grab Alfred. Arthur batted his hand away as they walked by and rolled his eyes.

“You bitch! YOU FUCKING BITCH!” screamed the man, his eyes wide with both rage and terror. “I’LL KILL YOU, YOU LITTLE SHIT!”

“Incorrect,” said Arthur, shoving Alfred into his own cell. “It’s he who will be killing you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, you two.”

Alfred fell to his knees as he was shoved in his cell, scooting so he was as far away from the man as possible. “Your fault for leaving the keys out,” he mumbled, crossing his arms and looking the other way.

Arthur left without much fanfare, though the other pirate had only just begun. “You cock-sucking whore!” he screamed, his eyes filled with tears. “Did you ask him for special permission to kill me, you cunt? Funny how that works out! Kill the one person who afforded you a chance to get out! Do you really love your sweet little husband all that much?” He reached through the bars, even though he knew he couldn’t reach. “You bitch! You bitch! Skinned alive? Oh God…” He looked like he was about to throw up. “Oh God…”

“He’s making me do it!” Alfred screamed, fresh tears flowing down his cheeks as the man yelled at him. “I hate Arthur, I hate him!” he reached up to cover his face, body trembling as he sobbed. Skinning someone alive? It sounded so slow and painful, he wasn’t sure if he could do such a thing.

“And who made you run away?” asked the pirate, his voice shaky. He wasn’t even looking at Alfred anymore. He was just staring into the palms of his hands, pale as a ghost. “You know him! You should have known what would happen! Oh my God! Oh my God! Who’s going to take care of my daughter now? Who’s going to put a roof over her head, and pay for her medicine? I’m going to die. My daughter is going to die, at just eight years old! Because of you!”

Alfred wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them up to his chest. He felt guilty now, although hearing the pirate speak of his daughter only reminded him of his own family. “And you guys ruined my family so I guess we’re even,” he muttered, knowing how cruel that sounded.

The man’s eyes darkened. He turned to Alfred, and began to laugh, loud and hollow. “You know, I’d heard you were a Puritan before all of this. I’m honestly a bit surprised that someone like you could say that. Of course, with such a mindset, it really is no wonder that you’ve been forsaken.” He collapsed to the floor, sobbing and cackling simultaneously. “I’ve fought a lot of men, but never have I heard one so callous about the death of a child! Now I know what the captain sees in you. Your heart is as cold as the rest of us. You may pretend to be a victim, but your true colors have to show at some point. You’re just as sick and deranged as everyone else here. You don’t care how many innocents get hurt as long as you’re fine.” He slammed his fist against the ground, his face contorted into an expression that could only be described as psychotic. “Maria! Maria, I’m sorry!”

Alfred wasn’t happy about hearing that this man’s child would die, but he was angry that the man who could have helped ruin his family was now sobbing over his daughter. “I’m not cruel like Arthur!” he shouted, not wanting to hear such a thing. “My family has been ruined as well so sorry if I have a hard time sympathizing with someone who’s working for the man who kidnapped me from my own family.”

“You think I’m here by choice?” snapped the man, unable to even sit up anymore. “You really know nothing! I was kidnapped, same as you! I couldn’t even kill anyone the first time we got into a fight on the God-forsaken ship! Not even the pirates! Why do you think I was assigned to take care of you? I was the lowest of the low, responsible for washing the deck and cleaning up the mess these brutes leave behind!” He pressed his hand to his forehead and sobbed. “I just wanted to go home and take care of my daughter. But they said that if I left, they would kill my whole family!”

Alfred felt like throwing up, guilt and shame washing over himself. “Sorry..” he muttered, burying his face in his legs as he sobbed. He could try and beg Arthur to spare the man but it seemed pointless, Arthur was rather stubborn there was no way the pirate would spare the other.

“Sorry?” repeated the man, burying his face in his hands. “I’m going to die. Lily is going to die. My wife Maria… I hope she can move back in with her family.” He didn’t make much noise after that. Instead, he opted to simply remain on the hard wooden floor and weep. “Oh, Lily… You’ll go to Heaven, won’t you?” It was like he no longer registered Alfred as being in the room. “I’m sorry, Lily. Your papa won’t be able to make it to that place…”

Alfred layed down on his rags, covering his head with one in the hopes that he could attempt to block out the man’s sobbing. It would only be worse tomorrow when he had to actually kill the man. 

\- - -

It was difficult to tell when the morning came. The pirate in the cell beside Alfred’s was up first, perhaps because he didn’t appear to have slept at all throughout the night. There were dark rings under his eyes, which seemed dull and lifeless.

“Hey. Alfred,” he said out of nowhere. “Are you awake?”

Alfred stirred in his sleep, waking up as the pirate spoke. He didn’t sleep too well but he was too exhausted from the other day to not sleep. “Yeah?” he answered, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, wondering if it was morning.

“Can you do me a favor?” asked the man, his voice shaky. Slowly, he lifted his head, and turned towards Alfred. “Please. If you have a heart, I ask that you at least hear me out…”

“What is it?” Alfred asked, sitting on his knees to avoid hurting himself. It probably had something to do with the man’s wife or daughter he figured.

“You’ll be killing me, right?” said the man, his eyes welling up with tears once more. It was clear from how red and puffy they were that he’d spent almost the entire night crying. “Arthur wanted me skinned… Please, I know you’ll be punished in some way or another, but I’m begging you to kill me quickly. You’re a strong young man, aren’t you? When he gives you the knife, just stab me in the chest, or something. Please. I… I don’t want to be skinned alive.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” Alfred replied, nodding his head. It would get him in more trouble but there was no way he would be able to slowly skin someone. He could just stab the man in the chest, let him bleed to death.

“Thank you,” said the man, nodding slowly. “I-I’m sorry for calling you awful names. I’d have done the same thing, if I were you. I’m just… It’s hard, you know? I wish I could just see their faces, one last time…” He wiped the tears from his eyes. “I don’t think you ever will, but on the off-chance you ever meet my wife, Maria Dolores, please tell her that I love her with all my heart.”

Alfred nodded as he started to cry again, wondering when Arthur would come down to get them. “I’m never gonna see my family again either but if I ever happen to meet her I will,” he sighed, his will to escape diminishing bit by bit.

The man looked at the ground as footsteps began resounding through the room. “Thank you again, Alfred.” The sound of someone walking down the steps grew steadily louder. “I’m sorry for whatever Arthur does to you as punishment. And… Good luck with everything else. May God guide you.”

“Yeah, sorry,” Alfred muttered, starting to sob again. He felt even worse now that the man was treating him kindly. It would have been way easier to kill the other if he was like the other pirates.

It wasn’t Arthur that appeared before them that time. Rather, it was a pair of burly men with large grins on their faces. It was clear from the amount of rocking that the ship had begun to move again, especially with the windy weather.

“It’s time,” said one ominously. He opened the door to the man’s cell, while the other one opened the door to Alfred’s. Both were dragged out by the hair.

Alfred screamed as he was suddenly grabbed and yanked to his feet, being dragged out along with the other man and up onto the deck. His heart was pounding as he tried to think of the best way to kill the other quickly. He knew where the heart was, perhaps if he could stab there...

Arthur was already present, along with a semicircle of other men. They’d brought a strange, triangular structure out on deck, made entirely of wood. There were chains in each corner; two in the one on top for both hands, and one on each of the two corners at the bottom for the ankles. The pirate was stripped down to nothing, then shoved forward into the device and locked into place. Arthur handed Alfred a sharp knife.

“I trust that you’ve skinned an animal before,” he said simply. “Go on.”

Alfred's hand was shaking as he held the knife, his mind racing with thoughts. He had to keep his promise and kill the man quickly. Sure he had skinned animals before but they were always dead when he did it. Taking a deep breath Alfred lunged forward, the knife stabbing into the man's chest as deep as Alfred could get it.

The man screamed in pain as the blade pierced his heart; even so, it was better than what Arthur had had planned, and he looked at Alfred with sad, but grateful eyes. At least, until Arthur shoved Alfred out of the way, a second knife in his hand while the first remained embedded in his chest.

“I can’t trust you to do anything right, can I?” asked Arthur, staring down at Alfred. “Seeing as he still has a little time left, I’ll just have to show you how it’s done.” Arthur stepped around to the man’s back and slided down his shoulder blades, causing the dying man to scream out in agony. With a practiced hand, he slipped the blade under the skin and began cutting away, peeling it off of the muscles beneath.

"S-stop!" Alfred screamed, watching with horror as Arthur began to peel the man's skin off. At least he would die faster since he was bleeding pretty heavily Alfred told himself. "Just let him die please!"

The man continued to writhe in absolute agony as Arthur continued, calmly pulling the skin off until the man’s entire back was just a red, bloody mess. He didn’t get much further than that; the man’s movements quickly began to slow, his screams dying out. Less than two minutes after Arthur began, he was completely limp.

All Alfred could do was watch, sighing in relief as he saw the man finally die. At least his death was quicker this way, even if it wasn't instant.

“Such a shame. If you hadn’t stabbed him in the chest, I would have been able to take off his shoulders,” said Arthur, looking disappointed. The other men laughed at the scene, and the captain forced Alfred to his feet. He took his captive by the wrist, then forced his hand up against the red flesh that he’d exposed underneath the skin of the man’s back. “What do you think? It’s still warm. How does your first kill feel, Alfred?” He hadn’t done the skinning, but he’d still stabbed a man in the heart. “Congratulations. I henceforth name you a true pirate!”

Alfred screamed as he was forced to touch the corpse, doing his best to pull his hand away. "S-stop.." he whimpered, disgusted at the blood he saw on his palm. He felt like throwing up and probably would have if he had any food in him.

Arthur grabbed him by the hair and smashed his face right into the bloody mess that was the man’s back, rubbing it against it as though he were burying a dog’s nose in a mess it made on the rug. “Take a good, long look, Alfred. This was your doing. Your disobedience. He would still be alive, if not for you.”

Alfred's nose was filled with the stench of blood, mixing with his tears as it was smeared over his face. He kept quiet, holding in his outbursts. He was enough trouble as is there was no point in making the pirate even more angry.

At last, Arthur pulled Alfred’s blood-covered face away. “You look good like that, you know,” he said, leaning forward to lick some of it off of Alfred’s cheek. “I suppose I should have expected you to disobey, but I thought for sure you’d have tried to simply not kill him. I’m rather impressed that you actually managed to plunge the knife into his chest. Ordinarily I’d be a bit more upset about losing a member of my crew, but he was rather useless, anyway. Besides, we’ll be getting more soon.” He stroked Alfred’s upper arm, admiring the devastated look on his face. He’d never forced any of his pets to kill someone before. It was actually rather attractive. “And you’ll be an important part of that plan.”

All Alfred could do was stand there in Arthur’s arms, body trembling from what had just happened. He had just stabbed a man, even if it was against his will he had just taken another’s life. It would have been easier he knew if it would have been one of the men from the other day, but it wasn’t, it was someone who was innocent. “P-Please, just let me go,” he muttered, just wanting to go back down to the brig and not see anyone else.

“Worry not. The rest of your kills today shall be much less direct,” said Arthur. The men had already begun to raise a distress flag. They were far enough out to sea that they wouldn’t happen across dozens of ships, but still close enough that the wait wouldn’t be terribly long before one came along. In the meantime, some of the sailors were already pushing the corpse out of the way, though not before Arthur had the chance to shove Alfred to the ground where a puddle of blood had formed. “A shame we have to ruin your dress like this, but you have to look convincing. I’ll buy you a new one at the next port. Unless, of course, we get lucky, and our prey happens to possess one or two.”

“C-Convincing?” Alfred asked, not understanding what the pirate meant. He didn’t recognize the flag either that they had just put up. “What are you guys planning?” He sat up the best he could, sitting on his knees and wiping a bit of blood from his face.

“It’s quite simple, really. Practically routine,” said Arthur as the others went to lower the anchor. “We’re going to go below deck. You’re going to stay out here, lay down, and pretend to be wounded. Or sit, if you’d rather do that. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in. The point is to get them to board the ship, then ambush them while they attempt to come to your aid.”

“A-Ambush?” Alfred asked, hands gripping his dress tightly. He was supposed to just lay there and let others board the ship just so they could be killed? He had an idea of maybe warning the men who would come on the ship, but he wasn’t sure if it would work or not.

“And since you’ve proven you can’t be trusted to be loyal…” added Arthur, pulling a strip of cloth from his pocket and shoving the fabric from Alfred’s branding back into his mouth. “I’m afraid I have to gag you. Terribly sorry, love, but I can’t allow you to warn them before they get here.” He tied the piece of fabric around Alfred’s head and over his mouth so he couldn’t spit the gag out. Another pirate came around from behind to bind his wrists together behind his back, then tie up his knees and ankles. “Don’t worry so much. We’re going to try to kill as few as possible. After all, all of these recent executions have left us a bit short on manpower.”

It was as if the pirate had read his mind, Alfred trying to talk through the gag but nothing came out but a bunch of muffled words. At least they wouldn’t be killing as many people Alfred thought. Hopefully whoever Arthur decided to keep on his ship would be nicer than his current crew.

“Just to make sure that you don’t move to far,” said Arthur, taking one end of the rope ties around Alfred’s ankles and securing it around the ship’s mast. The last thing he needed was to have his pet wandering out of sight. An empty ship with a distress flag was much more suspicious than one with a person on it. Especially if that person looked injured. Ordinarily they would just use pig blood, but since they had the puddle handy already, it was fine.

Alfred whimpered, struggling a bit in his bindings despite the fact that he knew it was useless. He’d just have to lay there and wait for someone to board the ship. Better than any other punishment he figured, although the smell of blood was starting to make him feel a bit nauseous.

At last, Arthur stood up straight to wipe the sweat from his brow. The men were already hurrying below deck. Just when it seemed the situation for Alfred was as bad as it would get, a few stray droplets of rain began falling from the cloudy sky. “Rotten luck, that,” mused Arthur, turning around to go after the others. “Have a good wait, love.”

Alfred sighed as everyone left, a few sprinkles of rain starting to fall on him. At least it would wash the blood away, plus it wasn’t a cold rain so in a way it was rather soothing. 

Minutes passed. The rain began to fall harder, and the gusts of wind roared louder, blowing across the deck and spitting droplets towards Alfred like liquid bullets. The sun wasn’t even visible anymore, completely obscured by the pitch-black clouds.

At long last, something appeared on the horizon, though it wasn’t immediately visible. From the deck, sails came into view; sure enough, a large trade galleon was approaching. They came closer, and closer, until at last they stopped right alongside the Unicorn, and a plank was put out to form a bridge between the two ships. There was a sound of shouting, and men rushed over to Alfred’s prone form.

“Are you okay, miss?” asked one of the men, running to get closer.

Muffled sounds came from behind Alfred’s gag, again struggling in his bindings to try and break free. He was soaked now in the rain, the blood having washed off his skin leaving only his dress stained.

“She’s alive!” called one of the men that was further away. “Get the doctor!”

The man closest to Alfred knelt down to check on him, but his eyes widened when he actually got a good look at his face. “Wait a minute…” he began, but it was too late. Pirates burst out from below deck and swarmed the group, with several running to the plank bridging the gap between the two ships to go raid it.

All Alfred could do was lay there and watch as the crew members came up, watching the chaos surrounding him. It wasn’t too violent so far from what Alfred could see, although from his angle and the rain getting in his eyes he really couldn’t see much.

Arthur ran out into the fray along with the others, shooting down two men one after the other, then stabbing a third in the back with his rapier. The fighting was over almost as quickly as it began, with a handful of bodies littering the deck; those that were still alive were very quickly surrounded and disarmed, corralled against the portside.

“Those that wish to live, please raise your hands,” said Arthur. All hands were raised. “Good. You have two options, now. You can serve aboard this ship and keep your lives, or you can refuse and die. Any objections?”

“I’ll never serve on a pirate ship!” shouted one of the men defiantly.

Bang! He dropped to the ground, a bullet in his head.

“Anyone else have any objections?”

The group was quiet.

“Good. Take them to the brig to await further training,” ordered Arthur. “And clean up all these bodies.”

Alfred flinched at the gunshot, looking around at the bodies surrounding him. He thought Arthur had said he’d be sparing lives, although it was rather stupid to believe a pirate about that. At least he would have some company in the brig he told himself, trying hard to find a silver lining to the situation.

With all those matters taken care of, Arthur knelt down to begin untying Alfred. “You did an excellent job, darling. It must have been just awful, waiting out here in the rain.” He lifted Alfred up and looked over his dress, completely ruined with dirt and bloodstains. “We got lucky. Merchant ships are much easier picking than a ship transporting, say, troops. And there’s much more loot to be had.” Already, his men were carrying barrels back over from the other ship to theirs, as well as lowering the distress flag to raise one of Great Britain’s; even if he didn’t feel like he owed them his loyalty, it made it much easier to blend in.

Alfred rubbed his sore arms, sitting up on his knees to get off of the cold, wet floor. “C-Can I go rest now?” he asked, keeping his gaze down to avoid looking at the corpses that were on the deck. It wasn’t that many but the scene still made Alfred feel a bit sick.

“Of course not. You still have to be punished for disobeying orders,” said Arthur, picking him up bridal-style, his sword sheathed. “What we did just now wasn’t a punishment. We would have used you as bait regardless.” It wouldn’t be anything too harsh. Mainly, he just wanted to get Alfred back to his bedroom to relieve a bit of tension. Keeping a whole crew under control below deck for almost an hour was harder than it sounded.

Alfred clung to the pirate, hoping that this punishment wouldn’t be that bad. He’d already been forced to kill someone wasn’t that enough? “What are you gonna do?” he asked in a quiet voice, a bit scared to find out the answer.

“Nothing too harsh,” answered Arthur honestly, carrying Alfred back to the captain’s quarters. “We’re no longer at shore, so I want you back in my room tonight.” He pushed the slightly-ajar door open with his foot, then kicked it shut behind them. He placed Alfred down on the bed, then went back to lock it. After that, he pulled a piece of hardtack out of his pocket. “I’m afraid things are a bit too chaotic at the moment for a romantic dinner. Still, I’m sure you’re very tired.” He took a bite of the hardtack as though it weren’t a struggle in the least, and began to chew. Once it was sufficiently softened, he pressed his lips to Alfred’s, and tried to force it into his mouth.

Alfred winced as he was laid on his back but before he could move the pirate’s lips were on his own, the disgusting hardtack forced into his mouth. It was so disgusting, Alfred quickly swallowing it before pulling away and wiping his mouth with his arm.

“You could at least thank me,” mused Arthur, climbing over Alfred’s body to straddle him. He pressed his lips to his pet’s neck and began to suck. They were both soaked from the rain, and water was dripping all over the bed. The pirate didn’t mind too much, though; he’d slept in far worse conditions. “I never did give you a shot of rum the other day like I promised, did I? Do your wounds still hurt? I have a few bottles stashed away, if you’d like.” He sort of wanted to see if alcohol would loosen Alfred up a bit, and make him a bit less uptight.

“Um, sure..” Alfred muttered, the rum actually sounding rather good. It would help with the pain and hopefully help him forget a bit of what had happened that day. He was breathing heavily now, lying still as Arthur sucked on the sensitive skin on his neck.

Arthur got back off of him to go retrieve a bottle and a glass. He didn’t grab the best stuff, of course; he would wait to share that until Alfred was a bit more behaved. Besides, there still wasn’t a guarantee that he would be able to drink it. Alcohol was an acquired taste; some diluted it, but most of the men on the ship drank with the express purpose of getting drunk. He poured Alfred about a single shot, then held it out to him. “Sit up. I don’t want you spilling it.”

Alfred sat up as told, taking the shot and quickly drinking it. It burnt all right, goosebumps rising on his skin as warmth washed over his body. He cringed as he finished it, coughing a bit. “Tastes gross.”

“People don’t drink rum straight because they like it, darling. They drink it because it’s alcohol,” said Arthur, setting both the glass and the bottle down on the table before he climbed over Alfred’s body once again. He had such a cute look on his face; most people would be turned on by a positive expression, but the pirate was quite fond of displeased faces. “It should help you feel a little better, at least.”

Alfred nodded, his head feeling ever so slightly woozy as he laid back down. His ass still hurt quite a bit but he could bear with the pain for now at least. “It’s still gross,” he muttered, the taste still in his mouth.

“Is that so? Does this help?” asked Arthur, smashing their lips together and pushing his tongue into Alfred’s mouth. The taste of rum was still fresh, and he was all too happy to spent a minute or two tasting every inch.

Alfred whimpered as he was forcefully kissed, keeping his mouth open and letting Arthur do as he pleased. He wouldn’t kiss back, it felt way too intimate.

Bored by Alfred’s lack of a reaction, Arthur pulled his lips away and re-positioned himself between his legs. His pet still lacked any sort of undergarments, wearing nothing but his wet, blood-stained dress. Arthur began to peel it off of his body. “Sit up and help me get this thing off.”

Alfred did as told, lifting his arms up so the dress could be removed. He was glad to get the thing off, the water starting to make him rather cold, plus the smell of blood had been making him a bit sick. “Hurts to sit,” he mumbled, shifting a bit in an attempt to get comfortable.

“I know, love, I know,” said Arthur, tossing the dress to the floor, but making sure it didn’t land on his beloved rug. “You can get back down now.” He, himself, began to pull off his own clothing, the wet fabric terribly uncomfortable against his skin. He would have to put it back on later, when he went to check on his men, but he wanted to be free of it during coitus.

Alfred lied back down, the position a bit more comfortable since he wasn’t putting all of his weight on his bottom. He watched as the pirate undressed himself, mind a bit fuzzy from the shot he had taken.

Arthur tossed his own clothing beside Alfred’s on the floor, then immediately leaned in to start licking and nibbling on Alfred’s exposed nipples. He couldn’t help but feel like a change of pace was in order. It felt like they were constantly doing it in the same position, with the same preliminaries. Perhaps, in his alcohol-fogged state, Alfred would be a bit more receptive to something a bit more unusual. “Do you think you can get to your knees beside the bed?” he asked, pulling his head back up. “As part of your punishment, I want to fuck your mouth.”

“S-Sure…” Alfred muttered, not exactly liking the idea but he didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter. He slid off of the bed and down to his knees on the floor, more comfortable in this position at least.

Arthur himself sat on the edge of the bed, his legs apart so that Alfred could access his cock. “Go on and put it in your mouth,” he said, placing a hand on his pet’s head and giving him a gentle push in that direction. It was only half-hard; he expected that that would change once Alfred’s lips were wrapped around it.

Alfred nodded, opening his mouth and taking in the tip. It was gross but things could be worse be figured, using his tongue to lick around the head. The alcohol was helping matters as well, mind just a little hazy from the one shot, after all he had never had alcohol before.

The compliance of his pretty pet was a pleasant surprise. Arthur had expected a bit more of a fight. It seemed all of his hard work training him was beginning to pay off; even if Alfred still didn’t like it, the fact that he would go along with it so easily was a good sign. Even if he was being helped along by the alcohol. “Deeper.”

It wasn't just the alcohol making Alfred obedient, every time his mind was filled with thoughts of disobedience he remembered the punishments he had received, that alone enough to make him compliant. He moved down a little, taking in about half of Arthur's cock.

Arthur’s lips parted a little in order to take in more air, a quiet gasp escaping his throat as Alfred took him in further. “Suck a little harder,” he ordered, resisting the urge to push Alfred’s head all the way down his length. By that point, he was completely hard.

Alfred took a deep breath moving up a bit before going back down, trying not to gag himself. A bit of drool ran down his chin as he worked on coating Arthur's cock with saliva, knowing the more he did himself the less angry the pirate would be.

“Not bad, for your first time,” said Arthur breathily, twirling the little clump of stray hairs on Alfred’s head around his finger. “I suppose you’ve done it once before, but not quite like this.” He was careful not to let the sensations overpower him. His last pet hadn’t been nearly as good with his mouth. In fact, one of his pets had tried to bite his cock off. A bullet to the head had been all he needed to get them off.

Alfred whimpered, closing his eyes and doing what he thought he should do, moving up and down on Arthur’s cock. He could only go about halfway down before he would start choking, hoping that would be good enough for Arthur.

At long last, Arthur pushed Alfred off of his length. “Good job, love. Since you’re doing so well, I thought we could try something a bit different tonight.” He scooted himself a bit further up the bed, then got on his back as though he were going to sleep. “Climb on top and put it in. Go on.” He crossed his arms behind his head and rested it on them.

Alfred climbed back on the bed, getting up so that he was straddling the pirate. This new position felt even more humiliating than the others, being forced to do everything himself. Silently he moved down, feeling the tip of Arthur’s cock push inside of him, causing him to scream out in pain.

“Oh, come now, it’s not nearly as bad as you’re making it out to be,” chided Arthur, holding out one hand to slide it down Alfred’s hip. To him, it was silly that his lovely ‘wife’ was still so pained by the whole thing, especially after how many times they’d done it. It felt like he would never have the begging, needy pet of his dreams, and that was rather bothersome to him. All he wanted was a broken-down husk of a human being at his complete beck and call; was that really so much to ask?

Alfred managed to get all of Arthur’s cock inside him, hands on Arthur’s chest to brace himself. Slowly he moved up a bit before slamming back down again, a groan escaping his throat. It felt so strange to be the one in control after all, although it was nice being able to set his own pace.

Arthur placed both of his hands on Alfred’s hips to help him keep steady, enjoying the break after the stress of combat. Sure, they never stood a chance against him, but killing three people in a matter of seconds still required quite a bit of effort. All Alfred has done was lay there on the floor for about an hour. Although Arthur hoped to train him, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted him on the front lines; it would be a shame to spend so much time training him only to have him get killed.

Alfred’s breathing was heavy as he moved his hips, doing his best to bounce up and down on Arthur’s cock. He couldn’t help the small gasps and moans that escaped him every time he moved back down, his own cock starting to get hard.

“That’s a good lad, keep it up,” encouraged Arthur. With Alfred seeming a little better off, he took one hand off of his hip to place on his pet’s cock, and began giving it a few strokes in an effort to bring it to full hardness. “I wonder how you’ll look in nine months when your belly is swollen up…” He couldn’t help but keep teasing him about that. He wondered how much longer it would be before he had to tell the truth.

Those words had shaken Alfred out of his stupor, eyes opening up wide as he heard that. The pirate was lying he kept telling himself, he had to be lying. Trying to take his mind off of it he kept moving his hips, letting out a loud moan as he managed to hit his prostate as he moved down.

“What, do you not want to think about it?” said Arthur, intrigued by the look on Alfred’s face. “My poor pet, in such denial.” He pressed the nail of his thumb into Alfred’s slit and laughed. The very fact that he looked like he was honestly wondering whether or not it was true was just pathetic. If Francis had told him that, he wouldn’t have believed it for a second. “I’ll have to rub a little more alcohol on that ear piercing of yours… Can’t have it rotting off.”

Alfred groaned, a bit of precum leaking out as Arthur toyed with his cock. He hated how he couldn’t tell if the pirate was lying or not, too embarrassed to ask anyone else if it was true or not. He sped his movements up a bit, closing his eyes again as pleasure washed over him.

Arthur kept moving his hand up and down, his head resting against a feather-filled pillow. “You may want to slow down a little,” said the pirate, occasionally lifting his hips up off of the bed to push himself further into his pet’s warm hole. “We wouldn’t want you to have a miscarriage.”

Alfred nodded, slowing his movements down just a bit as he continued to move up and down on Arthur’s cock. The alcohol wasn’t helping much, warmth spreading throughout his body and pleasure building up, his cock leaking a bit more precum.

“Nn, move your hips side to side,” said Arthur. He bit down on his tongue to distract himself. It was much easier to get absorbed in pleasure when you weren’t the one doing all of the work. “And tell me how good you feel.”

“I-I feel really good,” Alfred groaned, sinking all the way down on Arthur’s cock, moving his hips as he was told. To be honest it did feel a little good, the pain almost gone and from this angle it was much easier to hit his prostate every time he sank back donw on Arthur’s cock.

“Keep talking,” said Arthur, reaching up with his free hand to pinch one of his nipples. He gave it a little tug, and wiggled it about. “Tell me just how much you love it.” Alfred didn’t appear to like dirty talk very much. It was no matter. He would grow accustomed to it in due time.

Alfred whimpered as his chest was touched, moaning and gasping in pleasure. “I-I really love it,” he whimpered, not sure if it was a lie or not. Yes, he hated it so much but on the other hand it was just feeling so good, and besides he didn’t exactly have much of a choice in the matter.

Arthur took his hand off of Alfred’s length to reach for his other nipples and give it the same treatment. “How much do you love it? Learn to listen when your superiors are talking.”

“I-I like it a lot,” Alfred groaned, not exactly in the right state of mind to be thinking of a better reply. He whimpered as Arthur’s hand let go of his cock, almost moving his own down only to end up placing his hands back on Arthur’s chest.

“What’s the matter, darling? Can’t hold yourself up?” teased Arthur, still pulling on the hardened nubs on Alfred’s chest. Occasionally, a droplet or two of water dripped down from his pet’s body to his, the rainwater having not yet completely dried. “I’m quite impressed by how well you’re doing. I’m almost tempted to question just how celibate you were before I captured you.”

Alfred’s eyes opened at that, his shoulders trembling. “I-I was a virgin,” he whimpered, knowing it was just the pirate trying to get to him. He began moving up and down again on the pirate’s cock, trying to get the other to finish as soon as possible.

“Oh, I know you were, love. ‘twas merely a compliment. You’re quite skilled,” said Arthur, knowing very well that the last thing someone trying to convince themselves that they hated everything that was happening wanted to hear.

“N-No I’m not,” Alfred choked out, trying to hold back his tears that were forming in his eyes. His cock was achingly hard, desperate to be touched as he moved his hips, taking all of Arthur in as he sank back down.

“So modest. A good trait for a woman to have,” said Arthur. It didn’t matter what Alfred said; he would find some way to twist it around and throw it back at him. “You should have more confidence in yourself, though. You really are good at this.”

Alfred shut his eyes again, a few tears slipping down his cheeks as he continued to move, the occasional gasp or moan escaping his throat. He felt so close to finishing, hoping the pirate would touch him before he did.

At last, feeling himself growing closer to his limit, Arthur went back to stroking his pet’s needy erection, squeezing it tightly in his hand. He planted his feet firmly in the bed in order to get the leverage he needed to thrust his hips upwards, and made sure to meet Alfred’s movements with every thrust.

Alfred was getting louder now, noises escaping him as he slammed down on Arthur’s cock. He was so close, pleasure pooling in his belly as he finally came, his seed spilling over Arthur’s hand and stomach.

Sperm filled Alfred’s body, painting his innards white as Arthur finished shortly after, gritting his teeth and tipping his head back against the pillow. “Hah… Not bad, my little lamb,” said the pirate. He smiled up at Alfred and wiped some of the stray tears from his face with the hand that wasn’t covered in seed.

Alfred stopped his movements as Arthur came, still seated down on the man’s cock. He kept his eyes shut as Arthur wiped his tears away, waiting for the okay to get off of the other.

“Off,” was all Arthur said, grabbing one of the pieces of cloth he’d kept under his pillow for just such an occasion. “Keep straddling me, though; I don’t want you dripping all over the rug.”

Alfred nodded, hands on Arthur’s chest as he slowly moved up, the man’s cock slipping out of his hole. He shuddered as he felt a bit of cum run down his thighs, glad at least that the other was going to clean him up.

Slowly but surely, Arthur cleaned up the both of them, wiping off all the bodily fluids covering them both, and scrubbing Alfred’s inner thighs. He slipped out from underneath Alfred, then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up to get dressed. “I’m afraid that I have to be off now. You’re free to rest up for now, though I expect you to get to work washing the deck when I return. Enjoy your break.”

Alfred lied down on the bed, grabbing the blanket and curling himself up in it. “Thanks,” he muttered, glad to be getting some rest at least. Closing his eyes he quickly drifted off into sleep, the bed much more comfortable than the rags he had down in the brig.

Arthur stroked his hair one last time and kissed him on the cheek. He hoped that at some point Alfred would be capable of having sex without falling asleep immediately after. Arthur had never gotten the chance, himself. He still remembered the way Francis would drag him kicking and screaming into a room, violate him, then toss him back out before he could so much as get his bearings, fully expecting him to be capable of lifting crates twice his size with a stabbing pain shooting up his back. As far as he was concerned, Alfred didn’t know how good he had it.

Alfred couldn't help but flinch as he was kissed, still half awake as the pirate did that. It felt so disgusting, such a loving gesture after everything he had done. Once he heard the door open and then shut he sat up and sighed, rubbing his eyes before plopping back down on the bed, lying on his stomach and dozing off.


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur returned about an hour later.

As usual, he locked the door behind him, his arms still sore from all the whippings he’d doled out. Breaking in new members of the crew wasn’t quite as difficult as breaking in a new pet; he didn’t really expect them to be entirely loyal to him. At best, he would have a couple still alive by the end of the month, with the rest either having been murdered, or having escaped in port. Ordinarily he preferred to recruit the willing, but the recent executions had left him a bit short on manpower.

He placed his calloused hand on Alfred’s shoulder and shook him gently. “Wake up, love. You’ve got work to do.”

Alfred groaned as he was shaken awake, reaching up to rub his eyes. "Work?" He asked, vaguely remembering the pirate mentioning something earlier. "Do I have to wear the dress?" He hoped not, regular clothes would suit him just fine.

“Seeing as you’re only tidying up, and not doing hard labor, yes,” answered Arthur, sitting down at his desk. “The rain may have rinsed off the main deck, but the lower ones still need cleaning. I have someone out there who’ll show you what to do. Get dressed.” In the meantime, he had to look over the charts and begin formulating their strategy for their attack on the Spanish. The merchant galleon they’d managed to capture could possibly serve as an adequate diversion. Alternatively, having a fleet could also potentially draw unwanted attention. Not just from the law, but from other pirates, thinking they were genuine merchants protecting something valuable. “Here.” Arthur placed a folded-up dress on the table; it was about as plain as the old, bloody one, but the new one came with a bonnet.

Alfred sighed as he stood up, looking down at the dress. It closely resembled his old one, just a few parts different. "A bonnet?" He asked, sighing as he picked the thing up. How was he even supposed to put it on? He'd never had to before. "Wanna help me ah, get dressed?" He asked, keeping his gaze down and voice low.

“Surely you remember how to do it by now,” taunted Arthur, standing back up to assist him even so. He started with the corset, wrapping it around Alfred’s body and lacing it up even tighter than the last time; after all, his wounds, while still healing, were more or less closed up.

Alfred gasped as he was laced up, wondering just how he was expected to do anything in such a restricting garment. "Yeah but the corset and bonnet I can't put on alone," he muttered, taking a few deep breaths.

“Surely you can put on the bonnet on your own,” said Arthur, placing the white, frilly object over his head and tying up the ribbons under his chin. After that, he knelt down to help Alfred into his bloomers and shoes; though he hadn’t tied the corset up to the point where Alfred couldn’t bend over, given that he did have cleaning to do, a true gentleman was obliged to help a lady in need.  
“I’ve never had to put one on before,” Alfred mumbled, letting the pirate help him with the rest of his dressing. He wasn’t sure how he was supposed to clean in that corset but he knew complaining wouldn’t help matters.

“Surely your mother wore one. It’s not very complicated, Alfred. You place it on your head and tie the strings under your chin,” said Arthur, pressing his fingers to his captive’s forehead as though concerned that he was feverish. He didn’t want to believe someone could be so incompetent.

“Of course she did but I never had to dress her,” Alfred snapped, crossing his arms. It wasn’t his fault he had no idea how to put on women’s clothing. He was a man after all so how would he know?

“What I’m asking is how you couldn’t see how it works. It’s literally just a hat with strings under the chin,” insisted Arthur, sitting back down at his desk. He supposed it was for the best that his pet was as dense as could be. After all, none of his escape plans had been very well thought-out. It was good to know he didn’t have to expect any elaborate gambits. One of his toys had actually tried to stage a mutiny. That had been interesting.

Alfred hated how the strings felt against his chin, irritating him a bit. “So what do you want me to do? Some cleaning?” he asked, not really wanting to go out on deck in the outfit he was in. It was humiliating and now there were new crew members.

“I do believe that I told you this already. Go below deck. There should be someone waiting for you to show you what to do. As much as I’d love to be present for your training, I have a lot of work to do,” said Arthur. If possible, he wanted to fit in a few sparring sessions with some of the more talented members of his crew, too; he couldn’t afford to get rusty. The merchant ship was hardly a worthy test of his skill.

Alfred nodded, heading out without a word and shutting the door behind him. He quickly headed down below to where the cannons were kept, trying to avoid too many people seeing him.

“Aha, there you are!” chimed the voice of a young man, who looked to be in his early twenties. “At first I was worried I’d forget your face - haven’t really seen you around deck all that much, after all - but you stick out like a sore thumb!” He slapped Alfred on the back - his actual back, not his ass - and laughed heartily. “Ready for work?”

Alfred didn’t particularly like being touched by the other, moving away before the man could do it again. “Sure, what do I have to do?” he asked, glad at least the man wasn’t harassing him. Well, for now at least.

“It’s pretty simple,” said the man, grabbing a broom that was leaning on one of the walls and passing it to Alfred. “For now, you’ll just be sweeping the floors. Play your cards right, and you might get promoted to cannon maintenance! But until then, we can’t let you touch any of the fancy machinery.” He grinned. “Now, I know that the shape of the broom handle might make it tempting, but try not to get any dirty thoughts in that pretty little head of yours while we work. Understand?”

“I won’t,” Alfred said, teeth gritted together as he took the broom. Sweeping didn’t sound too bad, just boring. Although being in the brig all day was rather boring as well. “Should I clean up this room first?”

“Since we’re here, you might as well,” said the man, winking at him. “My name is John, by the way. John Thomas. And you are…?” He took Alfred’s hand and planted a kiss on the back of it, as though he were speaking to an actual woman.

“I’m Alfred,” Alfred replied, pulling his hand away from the other. He wasn’t some weak maiden and he hated being treated like one. “Just let me sweep for now.”

“Feisty, are we? Good, I love that in a woman,” said John, sweeping his brown bangs out of his face and trying to pose attractively. “If you ever get tired of the captain, I’d be more than happy to give you some private cleaning lessons.”

“I am not a woman and I’d rather not have any private lessons,” Alfred snapped, taking a few steps away from the man. How disgusting, he hated how everyone on the ship had to harass him.

“Oh, cleaning not your thing, eh?” said the pirate, elbowing him in the arm. “Well, what about fencing? I can show you my sword, if you know what I mean.” Some of the other men in the room made catcalls.

It took a second before Alfred got the innuendo, giving the pirate a disgusted look. “No thank you,” he said, walking over to a corner in the room to begin sweeping. Maybe if he started working the others would leave him alone.

Another one of the men strolled up to him, to ‘try their luck,’ as it were. Even though the majority pretty clearly weren’t interested in him sexually, it was obvious that they still liked yanking his chain. “That broom is hardly a worthy partner. May I have this dance, madame?”

“Go away,” Alfred muttered, backing himself up into a corner. He just wanted to do his cleaning without any interruptions. “I’m sure Arthur will be very mad if you end up doing something to me.”

“Oh, look at him!” cackled another one of the men. “So devoted to his dear old lover!”

“Rather impressive. That certainly isn’t what his beloved mummy said…”

Johnson had snuck around behind, and reached over to pinch Alfred’s bottom. “Come on, you know you want it.” He grabbed his hips, and began slowly grinding his crotch against him.

“Don’t talk about my mom like that!” Alfred shouted, swinging the broom and hitting one of the men in the face with it before swinging it back around to try and his the man behind him. “I-I’ll tell him what you’re doing, he won’t be happy about it.”

The men laughed at the man who’d been struck with the broom; the one behind Alfred, Johnson, managed to duck and jump back before he was hit.

“Why, you…!” growled the pirate he’d whacked. “Fucking whore!”

“I reckon we should teach our lovely lady-friend how to behave around a bunch of gentlemen,” said Johnson, twirling his moustache around his finger. “Such an action is borderline mutiny!”

“Leave me alone!” Alfred shouted, hating how he had managed to back himself into the corner now. Had Arthur given them permission to do this? “I just wanna clean and get it over with okay? Leave me alone.”

Johnson had him pressed against the wall, staring into his eyes with a sick satisfaction. He took both of Alfred’s wrists and licked his lips. “A shame, really. And we tried so hard to be nice.” One of the other men came in from the side and began lifting up his dress.

Alfred squirmed in the man’s grip, breathing getting heavy as his dress was lifted up. “I-I’ll tell Arthur, he’ll be really mad,” He wasn’t sure what else to say except to threaten them. Although it wouldn’t surprise him if Arthur had given the men permission to do this.

“Worst case scenario, we get a couple lashes. Just means we don’t have to work for a week. Isn’t that right, boys?” said Johnson, pulling him back away from the wall. “Besides, it’s not like we’re actually going to have sex with you.” He yanked hard while a man came up from behind Alfred and pushed. Together, they shoved him onto his hands and knees on the ground. Another man promptly climbed on top of him to hold him down.

Alfred screamed as he was knocked down, trying to get up only to have one of the men pin him down. “Th-Then what are you gonna do?” he asked, not sure what else they could do that position except fuck him.

“See if you can figure it out,” said Johnson. One of the men - the man that Alfred had hit - held up the broom and snickered. It seemed that he wasn’t about to take the humiliation sitting down. He made lewd gestures with the handle, moving his hand up and down along it.

Alfred craned his head, seeing the man with the broom. “C-C’mon, you can’t be serious?” he asked, struggling weakly against the man holding him down. He just wanted to clean and get it over with, he didn’t understand why everyone had to harass him.

“If you’d just stood there quietly, we wouldn’t have to do this,” said Johnson, taking the broom from the other man and walking around behind Alfred. The man that had been struck followed, and pulled down Alfred’s bloomers, exposing his bare bottom.

“I can’t just stand there quietly as you all harass me!” Alfred screamed, struggling again as the bloomers were yanked down, cool air hitting his exposed skin.

“That’s your problem, not ours,” sneered Johnson, pressing the dry, semi-semi-splintered broom handle against his hole. “Wait, there’s no way we can get it in like this. Wyer, the lamp.”

The man that Alfred had struck stood up to grab one of the lamps hanging off of a hook by one of the cannons. He opened it up and poured some of the hot oil down on the broom handle.

Tears formed in Alfred’s eyes as he heard the commotion behind him, shutting his eyes as a few tears slipped out. “Please don’t,” he whimpered, his entire body still sore. Especially his backside, the brand still stinging in pain.

As if reading his mind, one of the men took that opportunity to slap his behind, right across the still-healing brand that would forever mark his skin. The broom handle was pushed up against his hole, then slowly, slowly pushed inside, its rough edges scraping his inner walls.

Alfred screamed even louder as his wound was slapped, pain running through his entire body. The broom didn’t help matters, the dry wood scraping against his insides as it was pushed in.

“This is what happens when you don’t listen to your superiors, brat,” said one of the men, stomping on Alfred’s back to keep him from getting up. The broom was pushed further and further in, as deep as it could get before it could go no further.

The broom was painful, even though it was smaller than a dick it was wooden, and dry, and it scraped against his insides as it was shoved in. Alfred couldn’t keep himself from screaming, especially as his back was stomped, his wounds from being whipped still quite painful.

“Such a lovely sound. Not entirely unlike that poor man you killed,” said Johnson. He began pulling the broom out, though it was a bit of a struggle. Even though it had been lubricated with oil, it was far from the best material to put in one of the more sensitive areas of the body. In fact, it seemed like a lot of the oil had been soaked up into the wood.

“I-I didn’t kill him!” Alfred screamed, partly in anger at that and partly in the pain he was in. Part of him just wished they would just use their own cocks, at least it would be more slick that way. “A-Arthur killed him, not me!”

“You ran away, knowing someone would get in trouble for it,” said Johnson, pushing the broom back in. “You stabbed him with a knife. Most people would hesitate their first time killing someone, but you’re just a full-blown monster already. Just like your master.” The broom was pulled back out, then back in again, and twisted around.

Alfred kept screaming, body trembling as the broom handle was pushed in and out. “I-I did it so he wouldn’t suffer as much,” he sobbed, not wanting to believe he was a monster. He was nothing like Arthur.

“Immediately. Without stopping for even a moment to think about alternatives,” said the pirate, continuing to twist the broom around without actually thrusting it. “Any other person would have tried looking for a way to save him, even if it was pointless and impossible. You were too afraid of the consequences to even try. You’re as selfish and monstrous as we are.”

It couldn’t be true, could it? “N-No I’m different,” he sobbed, the broom giving him almost no pleasure as it was twisted around inside of him. “H-He asked me to kill him quickly,” it was better than being skinned alive at least.

“He was about to die. He didn’t have any hope left. Of course he asked you to kill him quickly. You, a strong young lad - or lass, really - had a weapon, and failed to see any other option. Couldn’t even be bothered to go for the route of holding it over your wrist and threatening to kill yourself. One of the others did that. Different reasons, though.” After all, none of the others had been asked to kill anyone.

Alfred hadn’t even thought of that idea, although it seemed pointless. Arthur probably would have just let him kill himself if he had tried. “J-Just be quiet,” he whimpered, tired of listening to the men taunt him about this.

“That attitude is what got you into this mess in the first place,” said one of the other men. The broom was shoved back into him at full force, pushed as far as they could possibly get it without doing actual, permanent damage.

Alfred’s eyes shot wide open as the broom was shoved in way too far, more screams escaping his throat. He just wanted to do his cleaning in peace without being harassed.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked having things up here. The way I hear it, you like it so much that you got pregnant!” said Johnson mockingly. The word of Arthur’s cruel trick had spread fast, and nobody was about to let it die. Not if it looked like the poor captive might honestly believe it. “Shameful.”

Again with the pregnancy thing. Alfred was so unsure of what to believe it was driving him insane. “I-I hate it!” he shouted, sobbing into his arms as he was sodomized by the broom handle. 

“Then how else did you get like this?” asked another one of the men, jabbing him in the side. “Your belly is already starting to swell! How will you be able to please your owner when you’re busy taking care of some brat?”

Was his belly getting bigger? He didn't think so but now that someone had said it Alfred was getting paranoid. At least he wasn't hard now, lord knows what these men would say if he was.

“He can’t even answer,” cackled one of the pirates that hadn’t spoken on a while. “I wonder, if we stick it in far enough, will it kill the baby?”

Johnson began laughing so hard that he was in tears. “It’s not like he would mind. He doesn’t value human life. It’d be a boon to him.”

As much as Alfred did not want to be pregnant he certainly didn't like the idea of killing a baby, that is if he was even pregnant. "D-don't...please," he whimpered, trembling in pain and humiliation.

“It seems we were mistaken. Apparently, his lack of value in human life doesn’t extend to his owner’s offspring,” said Johnson, shoving the broom against Alfred’s innards, and wiggling it around. “Already such a devoted little toy.”

Alfred sobbed into his arms, trembling as the broom was dragged along his insides. It was less painful now at least, his body getting used to it. Of course that meant now his cock was starting to get a bit hard, feeling the broom handle brush against his prostate.

“Would you look at that?” said one of the pirates, laughing whole-heartedly when he spotted the activity between Alfred’s legs. “Look at how much he likes it!”

“None of the captain’s other pets were broken this easily,” taunted one of the men, though it was a lie. Alfred had actually held up far better than most of the others, almost to an astounding degree. Most of them had given up on defiance by that point. Whether or not continuing to fight back was the intelligent thing to do was another matter entirely, but it was impressive all the same.

"I-I don't enjoy it!" Alfred screamed , trying to push his legs closer together to hide the evidence no matter how useless it was. The pirates had already seen that he was hard anyways. He wasn't even sure how he could be so aroused, the broom handle rather painful as it was thrusted.

“Liar,” said Johnson, jamming the broom roughly in and out of his prone form. “Such a masochist! I wonder what you did to deserve this fate.” He chuckled and let one of the other men have a turn with the broom, opting to stomp on their poor captive’s back. Arthur wasn’t going to be very happy that they touched his pet without permission, that was for sure. Still, if he executed everyone that pissed him off, he wouldn’t have a crew left. The worst they would get would be a few lashes with the whip.

Alfred grunted as he was stomped on, tears falling to the hardwood floor beneath him. Even though he was aroused he doubted that he would come from just the broom alone. It was smaller than a cock but at the same time it felt more painful since the wood on the handle was a lot more dry than flesh.

“Answer me!” roared Johnson, pressing his boot down even further, the high heel digging into his back; nothing quite as masculine as high heels, after all. “Or do you want me to tell Arthur that you weren’t compliant?”

“I don’t know!” Alfred screamed, hoping that the man’s boot wasn’t reopening his wounds. They were starting to heal too he’d hate to have them open up again. 

“Tch…” Without another word, Johnson removed his boot, and grabbed the broom handle back from one of the others. He spared no sympathy for Alfred as he yanked it out and tossed it to the side. “Flip him onto his back, and hold his legs apart.”

The others did as they were told and forced him onto his back, despite his half-healed wounds.

“Wh-What now?” Alfred asked, yelling out as he was thrown down, pain throbbing in his back. Weren’t they done yet? What more did they have to do to humiliate him? He couldn’t help but wonder if he should tell Arthur about this later, hoping that it would get the men in trouble at least.

“Touch yourself,” commanded Johnson, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning. He loomed over Alfred with a terrible leer, his eyes reflecting his complete disdain for the life in front of him. It wasn’t about sexual excitement. It was about the thrill of seeing someone else so helpless.

Alfred weakly tried to break his legs free, feeling too weak to do much but pathetically struggle. “Wh-What?” he asked, unable to believe what he had just heard. He had barely ever done such things in his life, not even doing it once since Arthur had told him too. “No, please..”

“It’s not like you’d be spilling it on the ground,” encouraged Johnson, licking his lips and rubbing his boot against Alfred’s exposed genitalia. “Just yourself. And the deck.” The two holding his legs reached up under his dress to pinch and twist his nipples.

Alfred knew it was best to get it over with, reaching down with his shaky hand and wrapping his fingers around his cock. He shut his eyes tightly, trying to pretend no one else was around as he slowly started to stroke himself.

“Faster!” barked the pirate, pressing the front of his boot against Alfred’s swollen sack. “This should be easy for you. All you have to do is pretend you’re with your beloved master, isn’t that right?”

Alfred kept his eyes screwed shut, moving his hand faster as he was told. The sooner he finished the sooner they would leave him alone he hoped. He just wanted to get back to doing his work.

“Pathetic,” laughed Johnson. “You’re a mess. You’re ugly, needy, and completely incompetent. The world would be better off without you. Why don’t you just kill yourself, already?” He pressed his boot against Alfred’s chest, though not so hard as to actually hurt him. Yet.

Alfred grunted in pain, holding himself up with one hand as he stroked his cock with the other. The man’s words were really starting to get to him, tears continuing to flow down his cheeks. “Sh-Shut up dammit.”

“You dare say such words to your superiors?” said Johnson, pressing the high heel of his boot against Alfred’s exposed sack. “A pathetic, murderous whore? You ought to be thankful that you can’t return to your village. What would your mother say if she saw you now?”

The pain against his sac wasn’t helping much as Alfred continued to stroke his cock, trying not to let it go flaccid. “D-Don’t bring my mother into this,” he sobbed, not wanting to think about her as he did things with his body.

“Your father, then?” laughed Johnson, finally removing his boot. “Or maybe the local pastor? I wonder what sort of a penance would be assigned to someone as wretched as you!” He picked up the splintered broom that they’d so recently used to sodomize Alfred, and held it inches from the captive colonist’s face. “Or maybe you’d just be stoned to death. Hanged, if they’re feeling merciful.”

Alfred turned his head, disgusted by having the broom so close to him. He knew there was no going back so why did the pirate have to torture him so? He kept stroking his cock, speeding up his movements in hope that he would finish soon.

“Don’t turn away when I show you something, you little shit!” snapped Johnson, pressing it against his cheek. “Go on! Give it a lick! Don’t you want to taste your own shame?”

Turning his head back Alfred did as he was told, tongue darting out to lick at the oily wood poking his face. It tasted terrible, the boy quickly pulling his head back as he continued to run his hand along his cock.

The other men all laughed in unison, pulling at his nipples and occasionally moving their hands back downward to finger his greatly-abused hole. Johnson tossed the broom back off to the side, seeming satisfied by the display of submission.

“Well? Did it taste good? If not, I might have to have you try it again.”

“Y-Yes..” Alfred whimpered, the abuse to his body sending him over the edge as he came, his cum splattering against his own stomach and chest. 

The men rather unceremoniously hoisted him into the air, one holding onto each of his four limbs, and worked together to toss him against the wall, where they threw the broom down at his side. “Are you going to go cry to your owner now?” taunted Johnson. “What a dismal excuse for a human being. Come on, boys. Let’s leave the poor wretch to his chores.”

Alfred screamed as he was thrown, head banging against the wall as he landed against it, falling down the floor. He couldn’t form a coherent response, instead beginning to sob. He covered his face with his hands, shoulders trembling. Was it worth telling Arthur about this? On one hand it was rather pathetic but on the other hand he really wanted to see those men get hurt.

The bloomers they’d removed were also tossed in his direction, landing in a puddle on the floor. Laughing, the pirates began strolling away, casually chatting about how much fun they’d had and whether they would take their break then or a little later. Alfred was left almost completely alone, under the dim light of the lanterns hanging off of the hooks in the wall.

Alfred reached for his bloomers, sliding them back on for modesty before curling up and sobbing again. He knew he’d get in trouble if he didn’t clean but he couldn’t get himself to get up and do it. He felt so sore, glad to see that the men were leaving.

He didn’t have to wait for too long for footsteps to begin echoing down the steep steps leading to the upper deck. Even before the figure came into view, voices were giving away just who it was.

“O-oh! Captain Kirkland! What are you doing down here?”

“I’m captain. It’s my job.”

“B-but at this hour?”

“I thought I’d check up on that little lamb of mine. So, Johnson, you were in charge of supervising him. How did he do?”

“Absolutely terrible! He was defiant at every turn! I didn’t have any choice but to take action! U-um…”

The voice of the captain grew terse. “Tell me you didn’t kill him.”

“No, sir! He’s still alive! We just punished him, is all!”

The sound of footsteps against wood began echoing throughout the room once again as Arthur emerged from under the arch in search of Alfred. His eyes locked onto the boy immediately, looking him over as though evaluating the damage done to an object. “I don’t suppose you want to tell me what happened, darling?” he asked dryly.

Arthur looked up as he heard Arthur’s voice, wiping a few tears from his eyes. “Th-They sodomized me with the broom,” he whimpered, the object still lying next to his body. “I didn’t do anything wrong, I had just been cleaning when they decided to do it.”

“Of course he’s going to say that!” snapped Johnson. “He-”

“-is too injured from his lashing to have required this level of discipline, regardless of whether or not he did anything wrong,” finished Arthur for him, his green eyes hardened as stones. “You’re a good shot with a gun, Johnson, but a terrible liar. I suggest you get back to work while I decide on what measures to take from here on out. That is, if you’d like you keep your testicles.”

All of the men in the group turned pale and hurried off to get back to work while Arthur knelt down by Alfred’s side to take a closer look at the damage.

As pathetic as it was to cry to Arthur over this Alfred felt a bit of satisfaction at seeing the men so scared. At least he had Arthur’s protection. With it the pirates on the ship would have to be careful about what they did to him.

Arthur pulled Alfred up into his lap and stroked his head gently. “Idiots. They’re lucky you didn’t end up with a concussion.” There was really no treating such things, except with rest and hoping that it healed. He’d lost many a man to nasty head injuries. It almost seemed like letting them sleep after the fact only made it worse. “Where do you feel pain?”

“My head and...my backside,” Alfred whimpered, the gentle touches oddly comforting as the pirate stroked his hair. It was almost loving, almost. He still hated the pirate but comfort was what he indeed needed after what just happened.

The pirate captain nodded slowly, and leaned over to look straight into Alfred’s eyes. “I’m going to ask you one more time, just to make sure. Did you or did you not do something to deserve punishment? Don’t lie to me. I’ll find out, one way or another.”

Alfred shook his head. “No, I was just cleaning and they decided to do this,” Alfred sobbed, hoping the pirate would believe him. It was true after all, he hadn’t done anything wrong!

“Easy, now. I believe you,” said Arthur, petting his head. “I promise you, they’ll regret what they’ve done. I’ll be sure to make an example out of them to the others. You don’t need to worry about this happening again.” He’d chosen Johnson specifically because he knew he was a disloyal bastard, and an all-around average sailor. Better to make an example out of someone he really didn’t need than someone more valuable. He hadn’t realized he’d go that far overboard, though. “Do you want them punished in any particular way? In addition to what I intend to do to them, of course.”

Alfred couldn’t help but think about the request. He was shocked that he was even considering an answer for the pirate but he absolutely hated those men. “M-Maybe...do to them what they did to me,” he said in a quiet voice, glancing at the broom sitting next to him.

Arthur grinned and chuckled. “My, my, you’ve grown into quite the sadist in your brief time with us here.” He pulled Alfred up into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. “Very well. I’ll grant your request just prior to their lashings.” He had wanted to simply cut them up, but really, Alfred’s idea was far better. Physical wounds would heal quickly. Humiliation, though? That would stick. “You’re quite strong-willed, putting up with all of this without trying to kill yourself. As well you should be; shame is for the weak. You and I are above such things.” He had to admit, he liked Alfred’s attitude. It was true that he was still distressed about what had happened, but he wasn’t just reacting with misery. He was reacting with wrath, and a desire for vengeance. He’d never before considered turning his pets into killers, but Alfred showed so much potential. It almost reminded him of himself, when he was younger. How quickly he’d begun to lust for blood.

Alfred didn't like being called a sadist, he didn't want to think of himself like Arthur. "I just want them to know what it's like," he said sofly, leaning against the pirate's chest. He didn't mind so much when Arthur was like this. When he was calm and comforting.

“So you’re incapable of turning the other cheek, then. That’s fine. ‘tis a silly notion to begin with,” said Arthur, unable to help but smile at Alfred’s reluctance to admit to just how twisted his request was. Years of tradition and beliefs didn’t vanish quite so easily, no matter how far one strayed from them. “Do you think you can stand?”

"Yeah," Alfred muttered, getting up to his feet. He'd suffered worse than a broom in his ass after all. Really when compared to everything else it wasn't that bad. "And I would turn the other cheek but, I don't want them doing this again."

“Of course, love,” said Arthur, in a tone that indicated that he wasn’t buying it. He took Alfred by the hand and began guiding him back to the stairs, making sure to stay slow in case he was suffering any pain. If they’d punctured anything, it had the potential to prove fatal. “We shall commence disciplinary measures immediately. Come along.”

Even though Alfred wanted the men punished he really didn't want to watch it. "D-do I have to watch?" He asked, following the pirate up. He felt bad enough without having to watch someone be hurt because he chose it.

“You don’t expect me to simply exact vengeance on your behalf while you hide away and pretend you’re not involved, do you?” asked Arthur. He pushed open the hatch, and squinted as the sun beat down upon them both, forcing his eyes to adjust.

Alfred squinted as well, blinking a few times to let his eyes adjust. "B-But I don't want to watch," he whimpered, shivering a bit despite the warm air around them.

“Oh, silly me. I should know better than to have you watch,” said Arthur, licking his lips. It was obvious that Alfred hadn’t learned from the first time he’d said such things…

For some reason Alfred didn't like the tone of the pirate's voice, knowing he was thinking of something even worse. "Then what?"

“I’ll have you participate, of course. You can hold the broom,” he said, helping Alfred up to the deck and closing the hatch behind them. The poor thing really needed to learn to keep his mouth shut. He only ever seemed to succeed in making things worse for himself. Well, it wasn’t as though he were actually, physically suffering. It wasn’t sporting to take revenge for someone unwilling to take it for themselves. “Don’t worry; I know you’re still somewhat crippled by that lashing. They’ll be tied down for you.”

While Alfred indeed wanted those men to be hurt he did not want to be the one doing it. "Wait, wait I can't do it. Y-You're the leader of this ship you do it," he said, turning to look at the man. He was starting to regret his suggestion, his stomach feeling sick.

Arthur ruffled his hair, as though he were a young child. “It’s not right to have someone else constantly taking revenge for you. You’re a pirate now. If you want any semblance of respect, you have to inspire fear.” He didn’t know why he wanted to push Alfred to become more aggressive. It was one of the most counter-intuitive things he could possibly do. Still, all of his previous attempts to ‘tame’ human beings had ended as dismal failures, for one reason or another. He wasn’t as weak as that bastard frog; he could control someone he shaped into a weapon. He could render Alfred docile to him alone, like a loyal hunting dog. “Tell me, why is it that you don’t want to do it?”

“I’d feel bad I guess,” Alfred mumbled, chewing on his lower lip. He had always been taught not to harm others and while yes, he was wishing harm upon those men he would feel even worse if he did it himself. Arthur was the one who enjoyed hurting others, not him.

Taking care to make sure they were out of earshot of the others, Arthur, who couldn’t exactly hang menacingly over someone who was taller than him, simply looked menacingly up at his beloved captive. “So, what? It makes you feel better to know that someone else is committing the act that you yourself requested? Does it somehow make you feel less guilty if you’re only sinning by proxy?”

“Y-Yeah…” Alfred admitted, gazing off to the side to avoid looking at the pirate. It was true, he wouldn’t lie about it. He felt less guilty if someone carried out the sin he wanted to commit. 

“Is that so?” mused Arthur. Without hesitation, he grabbed Alfred by the shirt collar, yanked him downwards, and boxed his ears. Though he knew it wouldn’t be heard after what he’d done, he still spoke. “I hate people that seek to avoid responsibility for their actions, you know.”

Alfred hadn’t been expecting such violence, screaming out as he was temporarily deafened. His head ached now, ears ringing painfully. Arthur had been so nice today up until this he was rather shocked. “S-Sorry,” he muttered out, unable to even hear himself.

Arthur exhaled, and gave Alfred a moment to recover. He waited until he was certain he’d be heard to speak again. “I’ll have no dodging responsibility on my ship. If you make a decision, or want something done, you have to own up to it. Understand? Pretending you’re innocent because someone else does your dirty work for you is something beneath even the lowest of the low.” It was certainly against a gentleman’s code of conduct. He turned around and began walking towards the men who’d committed the act against his pet. “Come. I won’t face them for you on my own.”

A few tears ran down Alfred’s cheeks, nodding as he heard the pirate. His ears still rang painfully as he stood up, slowly following the pirate. He was not only feeling guilty but scared. Scared that these men would hurt him for doing this.

“Stop crying. It’s unbecoming,” said Arthur, glancing back for just a moment to make sure that Alfred was following him. One would think he was asking him to engage in a duel to the death. At least, that was the way Arthur saw it. “You lot! Johnson! Smith! Turner! Black! Front and center!”

Reluctantly, the men stopped what they were doing to turn around and face him. Johnson, the ringleader of the group, was the first to answer. “Yes, sir?” he asked, though they both knew exactly what the matter at hand was.

Alfred kept quiet, standing next to Arthur as he watched the men line up. He felt a bit of satisfaction however, eager to see the looks on the men’s faces when they were told their punishment.

“I’ve decided on your punishment,” said Arthur, deciding to be nice and take credit for all ideas, even if he had Alfred himself carry it out. “Twenty lashes each for the assault of a crew member.”

They certainly didn’t look thrilled about it, but there was still a look of relief on their faces that it wasn’t even worse than that. At least, until Arthur opened his mouth once more, to add the rest.

“Prior to that, however, we must discuss your retribution. You’re being penalized, that’s true, but I want you to make amends. An eye for an eye. You will suffer as you made him suffer.”

There was a look of dawning horror on their faces as they realized just what it was he was saying. “Y-you’re joking, right?” said one of them, trying to smile and laugh it off. “Th-that’s not really it, right?”

“I assure you, I don’t joke.” Not about crew discipline. “As it is, you should be thankful I’m not cutting your testicles off.” Some of the other men within earshot were already whispering and snickering at the plight of the four in front of Arthur, though a few had the decency to at least appear concerned. Pirates or not, people tended to look out for their comrades.

Alfred hated to admit how good it felt to see the men's expressions. They deserved it after all. They had no reason to attack him they just did it out of their own sadistic pleasure. Hopefully after this they would leave him alone and the other pirates would learn as well.

“B-but…”

“I suggest you line up at the mast, if you don’t want your face to meet the butt of my gun,” snapped Arthur, his tone of voice lowering to a dangerous level. “Or would you rather trade places with my little lover permanently? You’re not the most aesthetically appealing lot, but I assure you that I can make do.”

“No, sir!” they all said quickly in unison, marching off to the mast like scolded children to the corner. Arthur couldn’t help but revel in his power over their lives. Best to nip their disobedience in the bud before everyone started to get the idea that they could just abuse his pet whenever they felt like it. It was impossible to train a dog if other people constantly kicked it.

A rush of pleasure washed over Alfred as he saw these men who had been acting so smug earlier now cower in fear. They deserved it he kept telling himself, starting to almost feel excited about their punishment.

“You’re looking awfully chipper,” said Arthur, turning to look at Alfred only to be a bit surprised by the look on his face. To think he’d been crying in fear just moments ago. Still, it was a behavior he decided he wanted to encourage, so long as it was directed at people other than Arthur himself, so he decided not to taunt him about it. “I’ll tie them up if you fetch the broom.”

Alfred knew there was no use arguing, silently nodding before heading back down and picking up the old broom. His arms were shaking a bit, unable to believe he was about to do this. He felt terrible about how good he felt about it, trying to convince himself he was nothing like Arthur as he headed back up.

By the time Alfred returned, a small semi-circle of men had gathered around the scene, where Johnson had been tied up over a crate. He was looking quite displeased by the situation, his face scarlet with humiliation and rage. The other three looked on, blue in the face, while everyone else not busy doing something or other on board the ship seemed eager to watch the show. It didn’t seem to matter who was on the receiving end of the punishments Arthur doled out, so long as it wasn’t them. They would watch with unadulterated glee regardless, especially if it was non-lethal, or otherwise just someone they didn’t like.

Alfred felt a bit of sick pleasure as he saw the man's face, wondering if that was how he had looked. He wanted to say something, to laugh at the man, but he kept quiet. He wasn't Arthur he kept telling himself. These men had done something bad, he wasn't needlessly torturing anyone.

“Have at it, then,” said Arthur, shocking not just the men in the semicircle, but those awaiting discipline.

“Him?” Johnson practically shrieked, as though Arthur were suggesting something completely incomprehensible.

Arthur was many things, but he wasn’t a liar. Okay, well, he was. The pregnancy thing was a pretty big one. But, well, the POINT was that he felt like telling the truth right then. “He’s cute like this.”

He knew from the look in Johnson’s eyes that the man wanted to strangle and insult him. They both knew that they were wishes that would forever go unfulfilled.

Alfred nodded, holding the broom up. He felt so unsure. What if he really hurt the other? What if the man would decide on revenge later? It had to be done though, after all his ears were still ringing from earlier. Taking a deep breath he nudged the broom handle against the other's ass, having to give a few light pushes before he was able to penetrate the other.

Predictably enough, Johnson’s first course of action was to let out a yelp. Fearing that this was perhaps the least dignified strategy with which to deal with the problem, he bit down on his lip and hissed with pain and discomfort until blood dripped down his chin. A few of the men clapped and whistled, cheering Alfred on. Arthur merely rolled his eyes. He led a bunch of barbarians. Sure, it probably figured, given that, well, pirates, but still. It probably didn’t help that so many of them were sex offenders, themselves. There was no way to be entirely certain, but he was pretty damn sure that Smith was also into little kids, from the way the others spoke about him when he wasn’t around.

Alfred felt so nervous, biting his lower lip as well as he began to thrust the broom. It wasn't easy, Alfred having to force it in and out. "How long do I do this?" He asked, glancing over to Arthur.

“As long as you want,” answered Arthur, much to Johnson’s complete and utter horror. “I wouldn’t wait too long, though. You’ve still got three more, and I’d like to whip them before the day is through.” It seemed like such a casual conversation, given the incredibly unusual situation.

Alfred had no idea how long he should keep it up, rather nervous about the entire ordeal. He waited a bit however, thrusting the broom in and out before he finally stopped and pulled it out. "I-I think I'm done.”

Johnson breathed a sigh of relief and finally opened his mouth. There were deep, bloody grooves in his lower lip where his teeth had been embedded since they began a few minutes prior, prompting the others to laugh even harder at his situation.

“Having a bloody good time, eh, Johny?” snickered one.

Johnson could only manage to fire off a few obscenities in their direction before some of the men helped drag him off the crate, prompting him to immediately collapse under his own weight as pain shot up his back from the abuse.

Alfred kept quiet, wanting so badly to taunt the man. To let him know that was the pain he had felt. He knew the other men needed their punishments still though, again getting nervous. "N-Now the others?" He asked, turning to look at Arthur.

“Naturally,” confirmed Arthur. The men before him shuddered. “Shephard!”

A massive man with bulging muscles and scars covering his body stepped forward to grab the next man in line to pin down and tie up with their trousers dropped to their ankles. It was truly a sight to behold, in Arthur’s opinion. Sometimes he forgot how good it felt to be captain. Sure, some people didn’t like the way he ran things, but most of them didn’t seem to mind so long as they got paid their dues.

Alfred didn’t hesitate as much this time, shoving the broom inside of the other and thrusting it. He really just wanted this all to end. At least then he wouldn’t feel so bad. It wasn’t long before he was done with this man, pulling the broom out and turning to look at Arthur.

Twice more, Arthur goaded him on, watching approvingly while the other men that hadn’t been stupid enough to touch his belongings looked on with a mixture of pity and amusement. By the end of it, all four of the perpetrators could no longer walk, and were on their hands and knees grimacing with pain nearby. It was hardly over for them; he still owed them each a lashing, for good measure. Still, he knew it would serve as a more than adequate deterrent from future insubordination.

“Let it be known that the next man who needlessly damages my property shall suffer a fate worse than theirs,” warned Arthur as the final man struggled to put his clothes back on. “His status as my consort does not give you free reign to do with him as you please. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, sir!” said the men in unison.

“Good. Now, back to work with you! The whip can wait until we’ve made port.”

Alfred sighed in relief as they were finished, dropping the broom to the floor. He was thankful to hear that from Arthur, that the pirates couldn’t just touch him as they pleased. “Now what?” he asked, crossing his arms as he looked down. He felt terrible, like he was cruel just like the pirate. But no, he couldn’t be. After all those men had deserved it whereas Arthur hurt others for pure pleasure.

“Now,” said Arthur, linking his arm with Alfred’s as the others turned to get back to work and chat about what had just happened, “I’d like to inspect your injuries back in my quarters.” He turned his head back to Johnson and his little posse, all of whom were still on the ground. “You! I expect you to be working when I’m done. Is that understood?”

“Yes, captain,” muttered Johnson.

“Louder.”

“Yes, captain!” he growled, glaring daggers at him. Such a baby.

Alfred clung to Arthur as he saw the man’s glare, shivering a bit at it. At least the other wouldn’t attack him, that is if he valued his life. “What do you want me to do now?” Alfred asked, assuming Arthur would want him getting back to work.

“I just told you. I want to make sure you’re fit to be working before I send you back down there,” said Arthur, sliding his hand along Alfred’s waist. “I can’t just have you go back to work if you’re injured.” He licked his lips, and his hand ended up moving to grab his prisoner’s firm bottom. “Besides, after what happened, I have to reassert myself over what’s rightfully mine.”

Alfred whimpered at the touch. He should have known Arthur was going to say something like that. “A-Alright..” he muttered, not bothering to argue with the pirate.

“So well-behaved,” said Arthur, pulling him downwards for a kiss on the forehead. He definitely wasn’t the least bit peeved that his toy was taller than he was. Not in the least. For certain. More to the point, he wanted to give Alfred a little reward for his progress in obedience. Just a bit of incentive to keep him on the right track. “If you do well, I see no reason we can’t just assign Johnson your chores and do a little target practice. Would you like that?”  
Alfred nodded, liking the idea of not having to work. Plus shooting the guns was rather fun if only to see how good he was at it. “Are we gonna head to your room now?” he asked in a quiet voice, just wanting it to be done and over with.

“Captain’s quarters, Alfred. Terminology is everything on a ship,” said Arthur, though he released Alfred, knowing he couldn’t very well fuck him right in the open. Well, technically he could, but he didn’t want to let his guard down like that. Especially not in the presence of people he’d just disciplined. “Come.”

Alfred followed the pirate into the man’s bedroom, hands fisted in the fabric of his dress. He had just been sodomized and here was about to be again. He really wasn’t looking forward to it.

“If we have the time, and nothing goes awry, I’d like to teach you how to load a bullet into the chamber. Then we can work more on your posture and aim,” said Arthur quite casually, locking the door behind them and pulling off his shirt to expose his muscular frame. He wasn’t particularly bulky, at least compared to some of the men on the ship, but combat wasn’t about who could out-muscle the other. An unskilled brute didn’t stand a chance against someone who could think quickly and had the agility to outmaneuver them, as well as the creativity to get out of sticky situations.

Alfred nodded, not yet taking off his clothes. He still hated being nude even if he'd already been seen by just about everyone onboard. He did have to wonder though if one day he'd look like Arthur, a bit muscular and a lot of scars.

“It’s good that you’re modest, but you don’t need to be so shy around me,” teased Arthur. He supposed it was best that he could be comfortable in knowing that Alfred wouldn’t let anyone else touch him. Not if he wanted to keep his cock, anyway. He slipped down his trousers and kicked off the high-heels he’d been wearing off to the side. With those out of the way, he could peel the white stockings off of his legs.

Alfred took that as his cue to undress, dropping the bonnet around his head before lifting up the dress and throing it off, leaving him in the corset and bloomers. He waited to remove them though, silently watching as the pirate undressed himself.

Arthur decided that, regardless of the actual intentions, he was going to take Alfred’s stares as admiration, rather than a mere tactic to delay the inevitable. “I’m flattered by your adoration, but I’d very much like to see my lovely wife.” He took care not to let Alfred see him from behind, where a large burn scar was still left from his days with Francis. He’d since had it rendered unrecognizable, but he didn’t want his pet putting two and two together.

"R-right.." Alfred muttered, slipping his bloomers off. He would need help with the corset though, unable to take it off on his own. Luckily Arthur was kind enough to not make it too tight, thankful at least for that small bit of kindness.

“Such a lovely body,” said Arthur, stepping around behind Alfred to untie the lace holding his corset in place. “A shame you always try to hide it from me.” He’d gone both ways in the past, and had fucked the manliest of women and the girliest of men. Alfred was neither of those things; he wasn’t quite yet built to his full potential, but he still had the muscles of a young man who’d lived their whole life tending to crops and animals. Labor muscles, that was. To Arthur, it was almost a cry of shame for a body obviously built for combat to be put to such a use. Then again, he supposed his own uses of said body were hardly much better. Still, at least he recognized it enough to want to train his toy, something he’d never done before.

Alfred blushed a bit at the compliment, taking a deep breath as the corset was removed. It felt so much better without it on, easier to move and breath. Arthur's compliments felt so strange, the pirate wasn't normally this nice after all.

Arthur pushed Alfred gently down against the bed, and pressed his cheek against his soft hair. “You’re so beautiful, you know?” He wouldn’t have picked him if he were ugly. “I can’t help but want you all to myself.”

Alfred fell down to the bed, head against the soft pillows. "I-I'm not that beautiful," he said, frowning a bit. He was average looking he figured, not ugly but certainly not the best.

He wasn’t about to stop when he had Alfred right where he wanted him. “You’re simply breathtaking. The mere thought of having you beneath me is almost overwhelming.” Arthur nipped Alfred’s ear and nuzzled his neck. Finally, finally he was making some progress. It was just a matter of encouragement. He had to make Alfred associate obedience and submission to him with compassion. Once he broke down that first barrier, it was just a matter of time before he had him dancing in the palm of his hand. “Were you born with the proper genitalia, you would surely have had dozens of suitors.” That was probably a lie. Alfred’s face and body were too masculine for a mere genital switch to have heterosexual men after him. Still, he found it difficult to believe that women hadn’t been interested in him. Not that they would have been allowed to display such emotions, being women, and all.

Alfred whimpered, biting his lower lip as Arthur teased him. He didn't feel he was born with the wrong genitals, after all he quite liked being a man. But his body also enjoyed such things so maybe the pirate was right? He had no idea, so confused by everything that kept happening.

No response? Perhaps it was time for a little dirty talk to get him really hot and bothered. Oh, he wouldn’t call him a dirty slut, or anything. Not right then, anyway. Arthur opted for a strategy of remaining positive, while simultaneously asserting himself as being the one in charge. “I’m going to fuck you,” he breathed, right into Alfred’s ear. “I’m going to fill you up and make that gorgeous body of yours writhe and beg for more.”

Alfred shivered at that, warm breath tickling his ear. It sounded so vulgar, so wrong and yet he could feel himself getting warmer. He kept telling himself he'd hate it, that he wouldn't get hard but he knew it was pointless. His body had betrayed him several times already.

“Do you think I would spend so much time training you if I didn’t care?” continued Arthur, settling in between Alfred’s legs and speaking through kisses. “I could just let you languish in a cell until I have need of you, but I don’t. Do you know why that is?”

“N-No…” Alfred whimpered, heat pooling in his belly at the kisses. Arthur’s touches were so gentle, so caring, it was making him aroused.

“Because I simply adore you,” he answered quite bluntly. It wasn’t like him to be so forward with his feelings, whether or not they were real or pretend, but he didn’t want to risk it going over Alfred’s head. He was a bit on the slow side, mentally. “I’ve had several captives, but you’re different from the others. You’re special.” He rubbed his hard length against Alfred’s and sucked on his neck.

Alfred gasped, eyes shut tightly as the pirate rubbed his cock against him. His cock was hard now, leaking a bit of precum. He didn’t understand how he was special, after all he kept messing up and getting punished.

Arthur wrapped one arm around the back of Alfred’s head and pressed their lips together, sliding his tongue over Alfred’s without actually pushing it inside. He had positive reinforcement to do, after all. “Strong and full of potential, with a hardy constitution. You remind me of myself when I was your age, truthfully.” Minus the intelligence, of course.

“I-I’m not like you,” Alfred whimpered through the kiss, not opening his mouth for the other. He hated the kissing, it was way too intimate. Oddly enough he preferred the more rough sex, at least then it didn’t feel so loving.

“I think you’ll find that we’re more similar than you realize,” said Arthur, sliding his body against Alfred’s. “You were the one who wanted to sodomize those men with a broom. I didn’t put the idea in your head. You could have just let me whip them and be done with it, but you didn’t. You wanted revenge.” He pushed the tip of his cock against Alfred’s hole, sliding it up and down without actually entering just yet. “I don’t fault you for that. After all, I started out just like you. Reluctant, and full of moral dilemmas. I even spent all night crying the day I made my first kill.”

“I-I wanted revenge, n-not to torture just for fun,” Alfred muttered, legs spread as Arthur’s cock rubbed against his entrance. He was not like Arthur. He didn’t torture and kill for fun like the pirate did.

“I don’t torture people for fun, Alfred. I do it out of necessity, as a form of discipline. Do not confuse my ruthlessness for blind bloodlust,” said Arthur, finally beginning to push in the head. As usual, Alfred felt simply lovely, though it was clear the broom had loosened him up a bit. Damnable fools. “Face it, Alfred, you’re already like me. You did it to punish them, to make sure they never did that to you again. That’s exactly what I do all the time. I punish you, and the others, to make sure that you don’t do what you did anymore. The only difference is that I’m doing it on a larger scale, and without as many emotional hang-ups.”

Alfred couldn’t help but scream as he was dryly penetrated. It was more painful than the broom, Arthur’s cock much bigger than the small handle. He wasn’t like Arthur, he wasn’t at all! 

Obviously the broom hadn’t stretched him quite enough to go dry. It was chafing Arthur’s skin, too, so he quickly removed the tip and spat into his hand. With that, he coated his erection with a film of saliva, though he knew it wasn’t as good as oil. Still, they were running a little low, especially after one of his men had spilled about two barrels of it all over the deck while they’d been in port. “Terribly sorry, love. Is this better?” He tried again, his cock a bit more slippery.

Not really Alfred thought to himself, although he nodded his head yes at the question. It was a little better but still very painful. He would never get used to this, he’d hate it always he kept telling himself, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t actually enjoying it.

Arthur pushed in a little further, taking his time and making sure that Alfred had plenty of time to get used to his size. If there was any internal damage, at least it’d help him find out. Nothing felt like it was ruptured or bleeding, though, so that was a good sign. “You’re absolutely breathtaking,” he told Alfred. Even if he was a dead lay, at least he was attractive. “You have no idea how much I just want to fuck you senseless right now.” It was difficult to stay his hips, but he managed.

Alfred opened his eyes, a few tears forming in them as Arthur pushed in. The spit helped a bit, although it was nothing compared to the oil. He wished Arthur would be quiet, the man’s compliments only arousing him even further.

“Ssh, don’t cry,” cooed Arthur. “I promise you, you’ll feel better soon enough. Eventually, you’ll feel almost nothing at all. Cutting through a man’s neck will be as easy as cutting through the cornfields.” He’d never been a farmer at any point in his life, so he wasn’t sure just how good the comparison was, but as long as he got the point across, it wasn’t that big of a deal.

Alfred didn’t want to enjoy murder, he didn’t want to be able to easily torture others. Arthur’s words felt oddly comforting though, managing to calm him down a bit.

“There’s my good, strong little lamb…” Arthur pushed his length all the way in and held it there, just to make sure there wasn’t any pain beyond that of being penetrated. He’s already lost someone to internal bleeding, and he didn’t want to lose another. Not that it would make a big difference to know, but still, at least he would be more prepared if he suddenly just dropped dead out of nowhere.

Alfred cringed, trying to relax around the girth inside of him. The pain was starting to die down now, pleasure slowly replacing it. Arthur’s encouragement was helping with the pain, his own cock leaking more precum.

At long last, Arthur began to move his hips, his moderately-sized length sliding in and out of the pulsating flesh clinging to it like it was a final lifeline. “You’re a tight little fuck-toy, aren’t you? Even after that broom. Pinch your nippes for me, would you?”

Doing as told Alfred reached up, pinching both of his nipples with each hand. It felt strange doing it to himself, small sparks of pleasure coursing through his body.

“Don’t hold back. I want to hear your voice. Tell me what you want,” ordered Arthur. If he said he wanted it to stop, that would certainly kill the mood. Perhaps that wasn’t such a good demand so early on.

“I-I want y-you to touch me,” Alfred whimpered, that being a partial lie. He couldn’t just say he wanted the man to stop after all so he settled on what he assumed Arthur wanted to hear.

“Well, I suppose I can oblige you, seeing as you’re already pregnant.” No, he wasn’t going to stop that one. Not until it became painfully obvious that it wasn’t true. Or maybe he could just say that men didn’t ‘show’ to the same degree that women did. Sometimes he loved being a bad man. Tenderly, he wrapped his hand around Alfred’s length and stroked it with each thrust into his hole.

Alfred groaned as his cock was touched, finger still pinching his own nipples. He ignored the pregnancy thing, not wanting to think about it at a time like this. “Ah…” he gasped, back arching off the bed as Arthur thrusted into him, his cock leaking a bit of precum.

“That’s right, keep making those faces,” murmured Arthur, alternating between dirty talk and his slow, sensual licking and sucking of all of Alfred’s most sensitive spots. From his nipples, to his neck, nowhere was save. His hips remained as a painfully slow pace; if his pet wanted it faster or harder, he was going to have to speak up.

Alfred couldn’t help but squirm a bit as Arthur managed to hit all of his sweet spots, his arms going back down to his side as the pirate licked and bit at his nipples. Arthur was moving so painfully slow, it was driving Alfred insane.

Arthur made sure to push his cock right up against Alfred’s prostate; no one knew why it existed, of course, but he’d fucked enough men and been fucked enough to know that it was certainly there. For a brief moment, he simply kept it there, the only stimulation being a mild pressure.

Alfred felt like he was being tortured, his hips rolling in an attempt to try and get Arthur to move, to do anything other than keep still. He didn’t want to beg though, too ashamed of himself to do it.

As painful as it was to stay still, Arthur couldn’t help but admire Alfred’s resolve. Still, he had far more experience and control over his body. All the willpower in the world simply couldn’t compare. He pulled out, and began making shallow thrusts that didn’t touch Alfred’s spot.

Arthur was intentionally torturing him wasn’t he? Alfred couldn’t take it any longer, he was going insane. “M-Move faster,” he whimpered, covering his face with his arm as he said that, a deep blush forming on his cheeks.

“What’s that?” said Arthur, feigning surprise. “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up, love. I couldn’t quite hear you.” Every will could be broken. Some just took a little more creativity than others.

“Move faster!” Alfred practically shouted, a few tears forming in his eyes. He knew the pirate was just toying with him, pretending he couldn’t hear and it was rather frustrating.

“As you wish.” It wasn’t enough for him to hear just that, though. Arthur wanted more. For that reason, he sped up, but kept his shallow thrusts, still not hitting that spot that he knew would fill Alfred with pleasure.

Alfred whimpered, still not getting as much pleasure as he wanted. He felt like the pirate was intentionally driving him insane, a few tears slipping down his cheeks. “P-Please, please stop teasing me.”

“You’ll have to be a little more specific. I’m not quite sure I understand what it is that you’re asking of me,” said Arthur, doing his best not to smirk. He almost felt sorry for the poor thing. Almost.

Alfred wasn’t sure how exactly to work it, his mind in such a haze. “M-Move deeper,” he whimpered, feeling so embarrassed at what he was saying, at how he was begging the pirate to sodomize him.

“Mind your manners, love. What do we say when we want something?” He really was feeling evil on that particular day, wasn’t he? It was definitely worth the agony of waiting a little longer to really begin thrusting into Alfred’s youthful body.

“P-Please,” Alfred sobbed, partly from being humiliated and partly from frustration. He just wanted Arthur to move already, the stillness driving him mad.

How easy it was to tempt young men into the pleasures of the flesh. Alfred wasn’t a person who could be broken with mere physical abuse; certainly, it changed his behavior, but he was still just as resentful as ever on the inside. What Arthur wanted was to break him down mentally; he would have Alfred genuinely believe that he was subservient. “Of course.” At long last, he slammed his hips all the way in and sped his pace.

Alfred was just thankful the pirate was finally moving again, his cock which had been softening now hard again and dripping precum. “Ah,” he moaned, eyes shut tightly as the other pounded into him, managing to hit his sweet spot occasionally.

Arthur simply adored the face Alfred was making right then, to the point where he couldn’t stop himself from giving his cheek a lick. “I’m going to fill you up with so much of my seed that it’ll spill out your mouth.” That was physically impossible, obviously, but who had time for physics in the bedroom?

The idea sounded rather disgusting to Alfred, cringing as his cheek was licked. He could feel himself getting close, pleasure building up as Arthur stroked his cock.

“That’s it, stay nice and tight for your master,” he panted, still a little disappointed by Alfred’s lack of verbal responsiveness. Well, perhaps next time. Or the time after that. He would wait as long as it took. “Do you understand? You belong to me, and only me. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Alfred’s moans got louder as he got closer to orgasm, his back arching off the bed in pleasure as he suddenly came. Pleasure washed through his entire body, spurts of cum splattering over his stomach and chest.

Arthur was quick to follow; unlike his promise, he did not fill Alfred with enough seed to have it come out his mouth, but he still made sure to coat his innards with white, sticky essence. He rode it out a bit too roughly, pounding viciously into Alfred’s prone body without care or mercy in those final, blissful moments.

"Ah.." Alfred groaned, feeling the pirate fill him up. It was disgusting, he would never get used to something like that. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

“Excellent work.” Still as dead a lay as ever, but at least he was a little less whiny about it. “I take it you want to clean yourself before we begin target practice?”

Alfred nodded, breathing heavily as he calmed down. He was tired and sore, not really in the mood for target practice. 

“Stand up, then. And stay off of the rug, or you’ll get a thorough beating,” warned Arthur. He didn’t much care how hurt Alfred was. Pirates had to learn to ignore their sense of pain. In the future, he might have bullet wounds to contend with, and one couldn’t simply nap through those.

Alfred nodded, slowly standing up, legs feeling rather shaky. He wished he could get some time to rest before they went out again, he was awfully tired from everything that had happened that day.

Arthur began cleaning them both off, talking as he did so. “By the end of the day, you’ll be able to reload a gun on your own, and hopefully fire with a little more accuracy than before. I want to be able to trust you to carry one around on your own. Self-defense only, of course. You can never know when you’ll be attacked by soldiers, privateers, or bounty hunters. It’s a dangerous world out there, and I don’t want you dead because you were helpless to protect yourself.”

“You’d trust me with a gun?” Alfred asked, raising an eyebrow at the other. It felt strange that Arthur would give him a gun, especially after all of his previous escape attempts. Not that he’d try and use it to escape, at least not anytime soon. He knew it was pointless and that even with a gun he was still outnumbered.

“In the same way I trust you not to choke or stab me to death in my sleep. I think we both know that you know it would be a completely pointless endeavor,” said Arthur, standing up straight after wiping off his legs. “In that same vein, I’d like you to start carrying your own sword at some point, as well.”

Alfred nodded, knowing it was true. With a gun or sword the other pirates would still be able to overpower him. He had no chance of escaping until they reached port again but even then his hope for doing so was gradually fading away.

“I’ve got plenty of experience giving weapons to people I don’t trust,” Arthur went on, sliding his fingers through his messy blonde hair in an effort to make himself a little more presentable. “This is a pirate ship, after all. Do you honestly think that I trust any of these men to have my best interests at heart? Why do you think I lock the door behind us every time we enter this room?”

“True,” Alfred mumbled, crossing his arms. “Can you help me get redressed?” he would need help with the corset at least, as much as he didn’t want to wear it. It still hurt against his wounds on his back which were luckily slowly healing.

“Of course. I’ll tie your corset loosely, to keep it from bothering you during practice,” said Arthur, already half-dressed, himself. He picked up the corset and wrapped it around his disheartened pet’s muscular form; he was surprised at just how little atrophy had taken place in the time he’d spent with minimal exercise. He would have to rectify that before he turned into a little dough ball.

Alfred was glad as the corset was tied rather loosely, still able to freely move in it. Once it was tied he slipped his bloomers on before grabbing the dress, holding it out so Arthur could help him slide it over his body.

“Honestly, it’s just a long shirt. You should have this figured out by now,” teased Arthur, assisting Alfred in what he found a rather simple endeavor. He’s only ever worn a dress twice, but both times he’d been able to put it on without assistance. Not that he was about to tell Alfred that.

Alfred kept quiet, not bothering to argue the fact that it was rather hard to move around to get dressed in the corset. Once his dress was on he picked up the bonnet again, sighing as he put it around his head.

“Well, at least you can do that much on your own,” mused Arthur. He slid his red coat over his shoulders and brushed off the dust that had accumulated on its surface. Some would call his insistence on proper, clean attire a bit macaroni, but he honestly didn’t care what they thought. Anyone that dared to insult him would be introduced to the barrel of his pistol.

“Yeah,” Alfred mumbled, tying his bonnet. He still felt so sore and tired, not sure if he would even do well at target practice that day. Asking for a nap though would just result in more punishment he knew, figuring it was best to just not argue with the pirate.

“Come along. You’ll feel better once you’re out under the sun. It’s harder to stay awake with such dim light.” He opened the door for Alfred, holding it like any self-respecting gentleman would do for a lady.

Alfred nodded, following Arthur up the stairs and outside. He had to blink a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the light, reaching up to rub them.

Some of the men stared as they passed, but no longer were they filled with the same disdain and bemusement. Rather, there was a mixture of emotions in the group, ranging from uneasiness to grudging respect. Even if Alfred couldn’t pick up on it, Arthur could see it right away. Even if they didn’t yet recognize him as a full member of the crew, they knew not to toy with him, at least not to the same extent.

Again Alfred felt rather shy walking by everyone, not picking up on their new respect for him and instead still feeling embarrassed at what he was wearing and what had happened earlier. At least no one was laughing he figured, thankful for that at least.

The sheet from the other day was still up, having since been stitched into place; from some of the new holes, it was apparent that the other members of the crew had been using it to get some practice of their own.

“Brown,” called Arthur firmly, and one of the men immediately turned around to look at him. “Fetch Alfred a flintlock pistol and a holster.” He wanted Alfred to practice with the same gun from then on, at least until he got the hang of it. Weapons were like horses; for best results, you had to know them inside and out. Even the slightest of differences could throw someone off. A master rider could ride almost any horse without having such issues, but a novice was better off getting to know just one to begin with.

Without another word, the man ran off to fulfill his request.

Alfred knew nothing about guns, wondering what type it was that Arthur was getting him. He had to admit though he was a bit excited to be shooting, it was a bit fun trying to aim and hit targets.

It wasn’t too long before he returned with both of the requested items. Arthur thanked him for a job well done, and turned his attention back to Alfred.

“This is your holster. I don’t think it needs much explanation, but just in case, this is where you keep the gun. They’re rather expensive, so it’s best if you try not to lose it.” He pulled his own off, then demonstrated how to properly fit the belt around his waist. “See if you can put it on.”

Alfred took the holster, trying to remember what Arthur had done as he put it around his waist, hoping he had gotten it right. “Like this?”

“Exactly. Nicely done,” said Arthur, nodding approvingly. He then proceeded to give Alfred the flintlock pistol. “Like the holster, small guns like this are rather expensive. It can only hold a single shot at a time, so it’s important that when you use it, you make sure your bullet strikes your target. If you miss, well, you’d better be good at reloading quickly.” He showed Alfred how his own gun was stored in its holster, then looked straight into his eyes. “I’m going to entrust this pistol to you, but it’s for emergencies only. Until you’ve become a little more seasoned with weaponry and combat, I don’t want you rushing into battle.”

Alfred nodded, taking the pistol and looking it over. He was a bit nervous about being given such a weapon, scared he might accidentally hurt himself. “Y-You’ll show me how to be safe with it right?”

“Of course. As it is now, it’s not even loaded yet.” As though he would simply give someone a gun and not teach them to use it. The very idea was absurd. “First, you need to know your weapon. That there is a rifled duelling pistol. It’s a single-shot, but it’s relatively accurate at a short range.” It suddenly occurred to him that Alfred probably had no idea what rifling was. “Rifling means there are grooves on the inside of the barrel that cause the bullet to spin when it’s fired, increasing accuracy.”

Alfred really had no idea what Arthur was talking about, simply looking the gun over as he listened. “So I have to reload it after I shoot it?” he asked, hoping Arthur wouldn’t find any of his questions stupid.

Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur did find his questions stupid. Fortunately for Alfred, though, he chose not to voice his irritation that his monologue had apparently gone unheard. “It’s a single-shot pistol, so yes,” he said in as calm a voice as he could manage. “Here, I’m going to do this slowly, so pay close attention.” He took his own gun, and demonstrated to Alfred the proper technique to load it.

Alfred watched as Arthur showed him how to load the gun, looking over his own afterwards. He was interested in what he was being taught but he was still rather scared to be holding such a powerful weapon in his hands.

“It’s really quite simple,” Arthur assured him, noting the look of uneasiness on his face. “Think of your gun like you would a dog. It exists to serve and protect you, but you have to treat it with respect, lest you end up getting bitten. Never forget how dangerous it is, but don’t let caution become fear.”

Alfred nodded, actually finding Arthur’s metaphor rather useful. His family had owned a dog after all. “Um, thanks,” he muttered, feeling rather grateful to be now carrying some sort of protection with him.

“Now, load your weapon,” said Arthur, reaching into the side pocket of his own holster to pull out another bullet and hand it to Alfred.

Alfred nodded, taking the bullet and trying to remember what Arthur had showed him. Doing his best he managed to load it, or at least he thought so. “L-Like that?”

“You’re a quick learner,” said Arthur. For all of his lack of common sense, and in spite of his criminally short attention span, Alfred was getting it rather quickly. He couldn’t load nearly as quickly as Arthur, but it still didn’t take quite as long as most complete novices. “Very good. Now, you want to make sure that the flint is in position. Make sure that the gun is pointed away from your body, and away from other people. Don’t hold it straight out in front of you; if you can, try to aim it at an angle towards the sky, just in case you accidentally fire it.”

“Flint?” Alfred asked, doing as told and holding the gun at an angle so that if it were to accidentally fire it wouldn’t hurt anyone. He looked over the gun, trying to find what Arthur was talking about.

“This mechanism, love,” explained Arthur, sliding his hand along the barrel and placing his fingers on the flint of the gun. “The flintlock mechanism works by creating a spark that ignites the…” God, if he explained everything, they would be there throughout the night. “The point is, you have to pull back on it until it clicks into place. When you pull the trigger, it will shift back quickly and cause the gun to fire.”

Alfred nodded, holding the gun angled again as he pulled back on the flint, hearing it click. “Like that?” he asked, hoping he had done it right. He felt so uneasy about holding a loaded gun, scared that he would accidentally kill someone.

“Calm down, would you? You were just fine the other day,” said Arthur, raising one of his prominent eyebrows. “But yes. You have it right. Even loaded, a gun with a flintlock mechanism will not fire until the flint is pulled back. Otherwise it can’t ignite. For now, I’d prefer if you didn’t keep it like that when you’re carrying it around. In the case of an emergency, you may pull back on the flint, but we wouldn’t want any accidents. So long as you that, it’s perfectly safe. I promise.”

“Okay,” Alfred said, still holding his gun a bit awkwardly since he had just pulled the flint back. “Are we going to have target practice?” At least if they were practicing it kept anyone, including Arthur, from harassing him.

“Of course. I told you we would not ten minutes ago,” said Arthur, still a bit bothered by Alfred’s incredibly short attention span. Hopefully it wouldn’t result in someone getting a bullet in their leg because he tripped over a bucket. “As we did before, I’d like you to try to hit the target on the sheet.” He couldn’t quite explain it, but he had a feeling that Alfred would do better that time. Or, really, he supposed he COULD explain it; more likely than not, his little pet was feeling a bit more relaxed than he had the first time. He certainly wasn’t completely relaxed, but he seemed to have gotten over some of his grief. Or perhaps he was simply trying to ignore it. Either way, he was more clear-headed.

Alfred nodded, looking over at the target Arthur had set up. He was more relaxed than the first time, holding up the pistol as he aimed it and shot. He hit a bit off center, shooting a hole through the target.

Arthur couldn’t help but let a grin spread across his face when some of the members of the crew that had been watching the spectacle gasped with surprise. “I’d say ‘not bad,’ but that would be an understatement. For your second time ever holding a gun, I must say that I’m quite impressed.” It was strange. He used to think that combat prowess would be incredibly unattractive in another human being. And yet, he couldn’t help but enjoy the sight immensely. It almost felt as though he’d finally found someone really worth his time and effort. “Try again.” He handed Alfred another round to load the weapon with.

Alfred clumsily loaded his gun, pulling the flint back before aiming again and shooting. He was a little more off this time, wondering if his first shot had just been mere luck. Still, he was hitting the target at least.

As far as Arthur was concerned, it hadn’t been mere dumb luck. Alfred, of course, wouldn’t know just how inaccurate such a weapon ordinarily was from the distance they were standing at; even with the rifling, it wasn’t a weapon meant to be fired from terribly far. Even an expert had no hope of consistently hitting near the center in such a situation. Alfred wasn’t hitting quite as well as a seasoned master, but he was still firing with the accuracy of someone who’d been training for at least a few months, if not more. “Your loading could use some work.” He couldn’t just sing Alfred’s praises, after all. No crew member of his would get a swollen head. “Try again. This time, just load the round, don’t pull back on the flint just yet.”

Alfred nodded again, reloading his gun a bit faster this time. “Okay, got it,” he said, looking up at Arthur. He rather enjoyed the target practice, it was fun and he could already tell that he was good at it.

“Better. Now, this time, hold the gun with only one hand when you fire,” said Arthur. He didn’t expect any miracles, and a single-hand grip meant less resistance when the recoil hit. Still, he was a teacher, and teachers had to gauge their student’s prowess before they could move on. One shot like that, and they would go right back to two hands; a child had to learn to walk before they could run, after all. Even the most talented of them all still hadn’t yet built up the strength in their legs to carry themselves for long distances.

 

Alfred held the pistol with one hand now, a bit shaky as he fired. He hit the edge of the target, ripping a hole right near one of the corners. Using one hand was a bit more tricky after all.

Arthur simply nodded, a frown on his face. Inside, though, he was quite pleased. Even with one hand, he’d managed to hit the target. He hadn’t been knocked back too much by the recoil, either. “Both hands again.” He passed Alfred a handful of rounds to keep in the pouch of his own holster. In an emergency, he would have to instinctively know where to reach for his bullets. Constantly taking them from Arthur could have him spending a split second looking for someone to hand them to him, and one split second was all that it took to die.

Alfred held the gun in both hands again, aiming at the target. His luck never seemed to go right though, just as he hit the trigger he felt his nose tickle, letting out a violent sneeze as he shot the gun off. Luckily even though he missed the target he didn’t hit someone, the bullet shooting into the wooden floor right between one of the crew member’s legs.

The pirate in question jumped, spilling the net full of fish that he’d been carrying to the deck, and letting out a high-pitched shriek that had the other men laughing at him in hysterics once they’d seen that he was just fine.

“One of the most important rules about possessing a firearm, Alfred. If you have to sneeze, you wait to shoot,” said Arthur, pressing his fingers to his temples. Even if his new toy was prodigious with his aim, there were innumerable facts and skills that were not yet in his possession. One of them was learning to take his finger off of the trigger when he thought he was going to engage in an involuntary bodily reaction that had the potential to shake his aim. “I think that’s enough for today, wouldn’t you?” He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to repair the damage in port, or just leave it. It wasn’t as though the deck hadn’t seen worse than a bullet hole. The truly important thing was that Alfred had nearly killed someone. Perhaps it would be best if their next training session was in port, away from people.

Alfred was frightened, glad that he hadn’t actually hit the man. Still he knew he was bound to be punished for this. “S-Sorry, it came so suddenly,” he said, avoiding eye contact with the pirate. He hated how he always had to mess things up.

“You need to be aware of your own bodily functions. There are going to be things beyond your control, and you need to be capable of predicting when they happen.” Arthur knew very well that Alfred couldn’t stop himself from sneezing, but he had to make sure that he was just as aware of himself as he was everything else. “Perhaps most importantly, do not make excuses. You will apologize to the man you almost killed, and you will accept the consequences with dignity.”

"Yes, sorry," Alfred muttered, looking up at the rather startled looking pirate. "I'm sorry I almost shot you," he said, actually feeling a bit bad. At least he hadn't actually hit the man, who knew what Arthur would do to him otherwise.

The pirate could only nod slowly, still shuddering after his brush with death. Another one of the men jabbed the shocked man in the side. “Oh, come off it, he didn’t even hit you.” Upon closer inspection, Arthur noted that the man Alfred had nearly shot was one of the people they’d picked up from the merchant ship. With new people to pick on, it seemed that Alfred’s period of hazing had been shortened. “Get back to work, you dandy!”

“Y-yes, sir,” squeaked the ex-merchant.

Alfred still felt bad, glad at least that he hadn’t hurt the other. “Y-You’re not gonna punish me are you?” he asked, thinking it would be rather unfair to be punished. After all it wasn’t his fault he had to sneeze.

“I believe I just told you to accept the consequences with dignity,” said Arthur curtly. He hated having to repeat himself, and he was quite irritated that it was such a common problem when dealing with Alfred.

“R-Right,” Alfred said. He was nervous it wasn’t his fault he was being forgetful. “What’s my punishment gonna be?”

“Since you apologized without a fight, I’ll let you off with a spanking,” said Arthur, a smirk tugging at his lips. More humiliating than painful. Of course, there was that brand. He wasn’t sure just how much it had healed yet. “Bend over one of those crates. Come on.”

The man that had nearly been shot just stared at him as though he’d lost his mind. “A spanking? He almost killed me!” The man supervising him tried to calm him down, but to no avail. “First the man in the dress, then the sodomy with the brooms, and now this? What the Hell is wrong with you people? Are you all just a bunch of sick perverts?”

“Yes,” answered one of the other men, jokingly slapping him on the ass. The others roared with laughter, while the man that had just barely escaped death only shrieked and ran off to the other side of the ship.  
Alfred had to admit it was rather amusing in a sick way, immediately feeling bad right after. “Bend over the crates?” Alfred asked, assuming that his punishment would have been done in private in Arthur’s bedroom. “Y-You’re gonna do it out here in front of everyone?”

“You really should be used to this by now,” mused Arthur. “It isn’t as though the crew hasn’t seen you in worse positions, before.” Like underneath a massive orgy, taking two cocks at once. He was known for his bizarre punishments; though he hated to admit it, Francis had rubbed off on him in more ways than he cared to admit. The men were mostly used to it by that point. The sailors of the Unicorn were quickly assimilated to the ship’s social structure, and delighted in the hazing of new recruits.

It was true, the crew had seen Alfred in way worse situations, although that didn’t mean he was used to it. With a sigh he walked over to the crate that had been brought up, bending over it and sticking his ass out.

Arthur was very pleased by Alfred’s timely compliance with his demands, and gave him a gentle pat on the rump. “I think ten swats is enough. After all, you still have to get back to work after all this.” Though, he would make sure to supervise his chores personally, and possibly teach him a thing or two about the ship. They were holding crew-wide cannon drills the next day in preparation for their raid on the Spanish, so it would be a good chance to demonstrate their use to both Alfred and all of the men that still had to be trained.

Alfred whimpered, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see the other pirates all watching, staring at him. He kept telling himself it wouldn’t be so bad, it was just a spanking. After all he’d gone through way worse recently.

Arthur couldn’t help but notice that the others were making it a point not to stare too much, or laugh particularly hard at Alfred’s plight. He almost laughed, himself; perhaps his newfound ruthlessness was a little off-putting? Or maybe they were just worried that he would go to Arthur to have his troubles remedied. He actually found himself hoping it was the former. He wasn’t sure when he’d picked up a desire for a strong, capable pet, but the concept aroused him so. The thought of pinning down and ravaging someone actually capable of putting up some sort of a fight if they so chose was a sexy one.

It felt like Arthur was taking forever, Alfred keeping his eyes tightly shut as he tried not to visibly tremble. He’d experienced worse he told himself, it was just a simple spanking.

At last, Arthur brought his hand down and struck Alfred hard across his covered bottom. “Well, that didn’t make much of an impact,” he noted, pulling up on his dress to remove one of the layers of fabric between his hand and the pale flesh beneath. “Keep count. Unless you want to keep starting over.”

Alfred whimpered at the contact, shivering as his dress was suddenly hiked up. “S-Sorry,” he muttered. “O-One..” It wasn’t that painful, it was more the humiliation that was getting to him, hearing a bit of laughter from some of the pirates.

The second strike came down over his bloomers. Once again, Arthur was a bit dismayed by the lack of a satisfying smack, so he pulled those down a little ways, too. Just enough to make sure that every strike of his hand came into contact with Alfred’s round backside. “That brand came out very nicely,” he commented, taking a moment to slide his fingers over the marking.

It still hurt a bit, Alfred hissing in pain as Arthur’s fingers slid over the sensitive flesh. “T-Two,” he said, almost forgetting to keep count. Just a little more he kept telling himself, then it would be all over.

Smack! At last. There was the sound he’d been going for. Arthur made sure the blow was sharp enough to leave a red handprint behind. After all, just because he’d limited himself to ten didn’t mean he was going to be gentle.

“Three,” Alfred whimpered, flinching as he was smacked again. Seven more to go, he could do this he kept repeating in his head.

“You’ve got such a nice bottom. I’ve half a mind to let someone else take a turn,” teased Arthur, giving it yet another smack. He turned to one of the men standing nearby. “What say you? Do you want a turn?”

“N-not really,” the man said, backing off a bit.

“Suit yourself.”

Alfred felt a bit relieved that the man Arthur had asked had refused, just wanting Arthur to do the punishment himself. “Four,” he cried out, the hits starting to sting a bit, especially against his brand.

Smack! Smack! Smack! Three more landed, one after the other. It was partially just because he was in a rush to get other things done, partially because seeing Alfred in pain was entertaining, and partially because he was curious to see just how well his little lamb would be able to count under pressure. Lord knew he was scatterbrained even when he didn’t have an excuse.

“F-Five, six..” Alfred whimpered, taken off guard by the three swaps in a row. “S-Seven..” Still, the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to start over again just because he messed up counting.

“I’m not sure what bothers me more. Your accent, or that dreadful stammering. Toughen up,” said Arthur, striking Alfred yet again. To be a pirate meant being capable of ignoring such minor pain, especially in the heat of battle. You couldn’t just call a time out because someone shot you in the leg.

“Eight,” Alfred squeaked out, trying not to stutter. It was hard considering the pain he was in and the humiliation he was feeling. He was almost done though, just two more.

SMACK! Arthur wanted to make sure the last two were the hardest. Despite Alfred’s already-reddened bottom, he was a pirate, and pirates were not known for their mercy. “You’re almost done. There’s my good little lamb.”

“Nine,” Alfred whimpered, trying not to stutter. The pain was getting to be unbearable, his ass stinging as if it was on fire. 

Arthur licked his lips; he didn’t care what the others thought. It wasn’t as though they didn’t know what he was doing with Alfred when he dragged him back into the captain’s quarters. He’d been quite the ‘prude’ once, back before he’d encountered Francis. That had changed very quickly, when it was a matter of getting used to the man’s unwanted advances or just plain dying. He raised his hand high for the final blow, and brought it down as hard as he possibly could.

SMACK!

Alfred screamed out, a few tears running down his cheeks as he muttered out a rather pathetic ‘ten’. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Arthur would have done this in private, the laughter he could hear from the pirates almost felt worse than the pain he was in.

Arthur took the liberty of pulling Alfred’s white bloomers up for him, and tugged his dress back down over his backside. His bottom was a little red, and sitting down would probably sting for the rest of the day, but he was really no worse for wear. It was certainly better than the whip. After the first few lashes, he hadn’t been able to do much to Alfred for ages, but it seemed his back was finally getting to the point where he wasn’t having big issues anymore. Next time he would remember to use one of the regular whips; those left a few nasty cuts, but they didn’t tear off flesh in the same way that the barbed one did.

Alfred stood up now, tugging his dress all the way back down. “Um, what now?” he asked, chewing his lower lip in nervousness. He wanted to practice more shooting but knew he’d probably had enough for the day, especially with that close call earlier.

“Now, you’re going to finish cleaning. With me supervising, of course. Not that I think anyone else will try anything,” he said, looking about the ship and giving threatening glares to anyone he suspected might have tried something. The men seemed to have very quickly figured out that it wasn’t worth it, especially after what had happened to the last few that had engaged in such activities.

Alfred looked around, finding the discarded broom lying on the ground. Walking over he picked it up and headed back to Arthur. “Are you wanting me to sweep more?” he asked, hoping that would just be it, he really did hate to clean.

“Unless you’d rather polish something else,” Arthur answered, standing on his toes to nip at Alfred’s earlobe. An act that, naturally, in no way made him feel self-conscious about the fact that Alfred was taller. Not at all. However, for the sake of instilling a bit of humility in his little pet, he would have to remember to train him to bend over when Arthur wanted to nip his ear. Forcing the captain to stand on his toes was just disrespectful. That was his reasoning, and he was sticking with it.

Alfred blushed a bit, gripping the broom tightly as his ear was bit. “Where do you want me to clean?” Back where he had been earlier? He really didn’t want to go back down there, at least not for today.

“The deck where we keep the prisoners hasn’t been cleaned up in ages,” suggested Arthur. There were still about a dozen men down there, locked up and irritated, but Alfred needed to learn how to cope with unhappy idiots.

“Alright,” Alfred said, letting the pirate lead him down there. As they entered he saw a few men still down there, from the merchant ship he figured. With a sigh he he started walking down the steps, not looking forward to any stares or comments he was going to get.

“You!” screamed one of the men as soon as Alfred’s face came into view. “You were the one who tricked us! The lady-man!” The others, too, began angrily shouting at him, their angry chatter proving quite annoying for Arthur.

“I-I’m not a lady-man!” Alfred shouted, clutching the broom tightly as he walked past them. It was humiliating, wishing they would just keep quiet.

“Yes you are!” jeered the vengeful men. “You’re wearing a dress right now!”

“Excuse me, but no he isn’t,” said Arthur firmly. “He’s not a man at all.” He couldn’t help it. Even when he was in a good mood, and Alfred was compliant, it was just too difficult to refrain from messing with the reactive ex-farmer.

Alfred was chewing his bottom lip, trying to keep quiet so he wouldn’t get in further trouble. Taking the broom he simply began to sweep, just wanting to finish up his cleaning.

“Lady-man!” shouted the men in unison, clearly in an attempt to get some sort of a reaction out of him. Arthur simply stood by to watch the scene play out. Really, he was surprised they weren’t screaming at him, especially considering he was the captain. Perhaps it was just because Alfred had been the most memorable figure in their capture.

“Shut up!” Alfred screamed back, arms trembling as he swept the room. He had been hoping that maybe, just maybe the men they had captured would be more sympathetic to his plight instead of more teasing and taunting.

Arthur sighed, a bit disappointed that Alfred was handling it so poorly. The best way to deal with such things was to remain calm and demonstrate that you were in control of the situation. Instead, he was losing his temper. “Quiet, you lot,” he said, a bit forcefully. When they didn’t shut up, he pulled out his gun and shot one in the chest.

The action sent them all into a panic, screaming and crying over the man as he lay bleeding out over the hardwood floor, shuddering and sobbing. One less mouth to feed. He would let them keep the corpse in with them until it started to smell; then he would just dump it overboard. Still, he felt a bit bad for giving Alfred more to clean.

Alfred screamed as well, jumping back to avoid stepping in the blood that was now seeping across the floor. “Y-You didn’t hafta kill him!” he screamed, turning to look at Arthur, tears visibly forming in his eyes.

“What? He was annoying,” said Arthur, as though he were trying to justify his alcohol expenses to a nagging wife. “Besides, I didn’t kill him. He’s still alive. I merely inflicted a fatal wound.” Alfred was going to have to numb himself to death if he wanted to stay anywhere remotely close to sane.

“You monster!” screamed one of the merchants, their attention redirected at Arthur, who only sighed and began to reload his gun.

“B-But he’s gonna die anyways,” Alfred said, dropping the broom as he stared at the man’s limp body. He wasn’t sure if he could ever get used to death, tears flowing down his cheeks.

“So what? You’re still alive, aren’t you?” asked Arthur, firing off another shot. It narrowly missed its target, instead burying itself deep in the walls. The men quickly quieted down. “Their lives are meaningless. You can’t expect to earn anyone’s respect if you aren’t willing to take it by force.”

Alfred whimpered, slowly nodding his head before bending over and picking the broom back up. Was he still supposed to sweep despite the blood seeping across the floor? It seemed rather pointless now.

Arthur stared down at the blood pooling over the wood. “Well, I suppose I’ll just get someone else to clean up down here, if you’re going to get squeamish. Let’s go up a deck, then, shall we?”

Alfred nodded, dropping the broom again. He was feeling a bit sick from everything, the smell starting to get to him too. “What do you want me to do upstairs?”

“Get rid of some of the cobwebs, maybe,” suggested Arthur, adjusting his bright red coat. Ordinarily, he would be above deck, supervising his men and plotting their next course of action, occasionally joining in to help with the work when they needed an extra set of hands. Watching Alfred clean and making sure he didn’t screw up was undeniably dull by comparison.

Alfred followed the pirate up deck, looking around for any areas that would need cleaning. He felt a bit more safe now that Arthur had made it very clear that any crew members found harassing him would be punished. “Um, if you just tell me where to go I can clean there.”

“The stores need to be tidied up,” said Arthur, deciding it would be a good time to take an inventory while Alfred got rid of some of the dust and grime. He still had to make sure none of the men had taken more than their fair share of the loot, and make sure that they had enough alcohol to make the trip down south to where Spain had set up shop in the so-called ‘new world.’

Alfred nodded, thinking that didn't sound too bad. At least he wouldn't be around any of the other crew members. He did have to wonder though if he'd be sleeping in the brig with the prisoners, shaking the thought from his mind.

“I’m sure I don’t need to worry, but just so you can’t complain about how I didn’t warn you...” began Arthur, heading across the deck to go down a separate set of steep steps. “...if I find anything in your pockets that shouldn’t be there when we leave, I’ll cut off your hand.” He didn’t think he had any reason to be concerned, really; Alfred had no reason to try to steal anything.

"I-I won't steal anything!" Alfred said, shocked at what he heard. He didn't want to steal anything anyways, not like there was anything there he wanted.

“That means anything, J- Jacobs? What was your last name again?” Arthur asked himself out loud, struggling to remember. Had Alfred even told him? “Well, I suppose it’s Kirkland, now, so it doesn’t matter.”

"My name is Jones," Alfred pouted, not wanting to share a name with Arthur. "Alfred Jones, not Kirkland," he kept quiet after that though, knowing he was already making Arthur mad enough.

It was too late for damage control; his comment had already angered Arthur, who stopped dead in his tracks and looked Alfred right in the eye. “Your name is Alfred Kirkland. See to it that you remember it. Is that clear, Jones?”

Alfred really had a hard time keeping his mouth shut. "If it's Kirkland then why did you just call me Jones?" he asked, glaring at the pirate.

“Irony,” said Arthur flatly. He should have expected as much. He was being far too nice to his pet. Alfred was cute and stupid, and he’d allowed him to grow too confident for his own good. He didn’t mind confidence around the crew, or even in himself. But Arthur was his master, and he was to behave himself in his presence. He stepped forward, towards Alfred, his pistol still in hand from earlier. “I don’t appreciate backtalk, you know.”

Alfred took a deep breath, noticing the pirate's hand on his gun. "S-Sorry," he mumbled, crossing his arms and chewing his lower lip. He really really needed to learn to think before he spoke.

Apologies weren’t about to get him out of the situation he was in. “You’re incredibly stupid, you know,” said Arthur, pressing the barrel of his gun up under Alfred’s chin. “Did you not just witness me kill a man in cold blood, as though it were nothing? Do you somehow fail to realize just how easy it would be for me to do the same to you?” Perhaps he hadn’t gotten through to Alfred just how replaceable he was. “You are not my first pet, and at the rate you’re going, you won’t be the last. I’ve killed dozens like you on a whim before. You should count yourself fortunate that you aren’t currently sitting at the bottom of the ocean right now. As it stands, the only reason you’re still alive is because I find your stupidity entertaining. You are worthless to me.” He finally put the gun away in its holster, without once taking his eyes off of Alfred. “If you value your life, you’ll remedy that by becoming useful.”

Alfred was trembling, the cold barrel of the gun causing goosebumps to rise on his skin. "I-I'm sorry," he whimpered, a few tears forming in his eyes. He hated being insulted, hated how the pirate knew just what to say to turn him into a blubbering mess.

Arthur nodded, satisfied. It seemed that Alfred had just needed a little reminder of just who was in charge. “Good. Now come along, pet. We have work to do. I expect you’ll mind your manners from here on out.” Still, there was some concern that the message hadn’t quite sunk in. Just to provide a bit more of a visual, he held up the front of his own coat to show Alfred the buttons. “You see the buttons here? These are carved from the bones of some of my favorite conquests. Only my favorites, of course; my best keepsakes are the teeth in the chest in my quarters. One tooth from each of my previous pets. I think there are about forty-nine in total, at the moment. I’d hate to have you become number fifty.”

Alfred's eyes went wide as he looked, feeling a bit disgusted. "Wh-why do you keep their teeth?" He asked, unable to think of a reason other than the fact that Arthur was just insane. Forty-nine other people had been in his position though? The thought scared Alfred, knowing one wrong move could end up with him dead.

Arthur looked at him with a surprised expression, the question having been a bit unexpected. Out of all the people he’d told the story to, Alfred had been the only person to actually be interested in the ‘why?’ “The fairies like them, obviously.” Some of the other pirates working nearby rolled their eyes, but he paid them no heed. The fairies had been his only friends on Francis’ ship. Well, them and Flying Mint Bunny. The unicorns only ever visited him on shore; they didn’t like the sea very much, and the pegasi were just too shy. “Though they do double as nice keepsakes. I wanted to make a necklace out of them, but they insisted I just leave them in the chest.” One didn’t simply mess with magical creatures.

Alfred frowned at that, obviously not believing a word of it. "Fine if you don't wanna tell me just say so," it would be ridiculous to think that such a ruthless pirate would believe in fairies and such. "So what do you want me to do after I clean up?"

“I did tell you the truth,” Arthur began, but he gave up before he could argue the point. In all his time as captain, he’d only ever met a few other people that claimed to be able to see the fairies, or at least believe in them. Unfortunately, they’d been nutcases. Who knew? “When you’re done cleaning up, I expect you to join me for dinner.”

Alfred nodded, also not wanting to argue it further. He followed Arthur until they reached the stores, hoping there wasn't much to clean. His stomach was rumbling a bit at the mention of dinner..

Unfortunately for Alfred - it seemed there were very few times since he’d gotten on the ship that he had, in fact, been fortunate - the room they entered was absolutely covered in dust and grime, all packed between crates, barrels, and other such objects.

“I don’t expect perfection, but if you could at least scrape off some of the mold, that would be a start,” mused Arthur, a bit peckish, himself.

Alfred looked around the room. It was rather disgusting, mold growing in the corners, dust piled up. "What should I scrape the mold away with?" He asked, figuring the broom wasn't cut out for that job.

Arthur passed him a knife; he always kept a knife in his pocket, and though he didn’t usually like to use them on such menial tasks, that particular one was due to be replaced soon, anyway. The edge was dull, and it was growing to rusty to sharpen without the risk of breaking it. Still, it would get the job of scraping mold away done just fine. “Have fun. I’ll be taking an inventory.”

Alfred sighed, taking the knife and walking over to one of the corners of the room where some mold was growing. He kneeled down and got to work, tediously scraping off the disgusting mold growing there.

Seconds passed, which faded into minutes, which quickly added up to a little more than a half an hour or so. Arthur, his own stomach rumbling unpleasantly, put down the parchment and quill he’d been using to keep track of their supplies and gently nudged Alfred as he worked.

“Ready to take a break?”

Alfred had scraped quite a bit of mold and was now sweeping everything into a pile as he was nudged. "Yeah, that would be nice," he said, rather tired of cleaning. It was boring and his stomach had been rumbling ever since Arthur had mentioned food.

“Good. We found some salted salmon on that merchant ship, and we still have a seemingly never-ending supply of corn,” said Arthur, grimacing at the thought. It wasn’t even that bad of a food in terms of taste; he was just always sick of it by the time they made it back to England. At least he didn’t have to pretend to enjoy the hardtack. “If you’d like, you may have a glass of rum.”

"Corn is good," Alfred said, loving the stuff. "I'll skip on the rum though, water is fine," who knew what the pirate would do to him if he ended up getting drunk.

“Such a lightweight. Any spouse of mine needs to be capable of holding their liquor,” mused Arthur, beginning the trek up the stairs.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, guys. Stuff happens. Funny story, this part has actually been done for aaaaaages. As well as several more chapters of content. We just never got around to posting it. ^^' More to come, hopefully a little quicker this time. This is still being written, I promise. You may want to re-read the last part of the last chapter for this to make sense; I'm afraid the last chapter was accidentally cut off mid-scene due to the way the roleplay was carried out over multiple documents and copy-paste them into Archive of Our Own, so this actually picks up right after. Like, same conversation and everything. Sorry again!

“I’ve never drank before,” Alfred mumbled, crossing his arms as he followed Arthur. The last thing he wanted was to end up getting drunk around the pirate.

“Liar.  You had a little to numb the pain after I branded you, remember?” pointed out Arthur.  Really, his pet had absolutely no long-term memory to speak of.  “Or do you mean you’ve never had it simply for pleasure before?”

“I meant that, that I’ve never really drank a lot before. I know I had some earlier but it was only a little,” Alfred pouted, knowing Arthur must be thinking he was stupid.

“Well, if you’re going to be a pirate, you need to learn how to hold your liquor.  That is, if you don’t want to be a laughingstock,” said Arthur, guiding him back up on deck and through the door leading to the captain’s quarters.

Alfred assumed that meant he was going to be forced to drink whether he liked it or not. He could remember the last time he had gotten alcohol, a bit embarrassed over how he had acted. It was obvious Arthur was going to try the same thing again.

“We’ll just have to condition you into tolerating it better,” Arthur continued.  He was already pouring the rum into shot glasses for the both of them; he wanted Alfred to have at least two.  That would be a good start.  Just enough to make him more willing to do things he otherwise wouldn’t be so inclined to try, but not so much that he would be a slobbering, vomiting mess, or have a terrible hangover the next day.

Alfred sat down once they reached Arthur’s quarters, watching the pirate poured the alcohol into two small glasses. He didn’t argue over it, knowing that whatever Arthur wanted Arthur would get. Reaching forward he took one of the glasses, holding it up to his lips and quickly swallowing. It tasted disgusting, goosebumps rising on his skin as he shuddered. “Ugh.”

“You could have waited until I actually brought the food,” said Arthur flatly.  There was simply no sense of situational awareness in his pretty little head.  Never before had he allowed someone so uncouth to live for longer than a few days.  Perhaps he was going soft.  Or maybe it was just because Alfred was particularly hot.  Probably the second one.  He poured Alfred another shot of rum.  “If you’ll stay seated and wait, I’ll be back with some dinner.”

Alfred gave Arthur a glare, his body feeling a bit warm. “Well excuse me,” he sarcastically said, crossing his arms. He watched Arthur walk off, his eyes going to the shot of rum in front of him. He really didn’t want to drink anymore, hoping that the pirate’s plan wasn’t to get him so drunk he wouldn’t remember what happened.

A few minutes passed before Arthur returned, pushing the door open with a single plate in hand, and two expensive silver forks looted from the merchant ship.  On it was a large, boiled ear of corn, alongside a freshly-cooked salmon and a few lime wedges.  He set it down on the table, and took a seat across from Alfred.  “There you go.”  He passed him one of the forks.

Alfred took the fork, his stomach growling again as he looked at the food. It looked amazing, especially compared to all the hardtack he had been eating. Reaching forward he took a chunk of the salmon, stuffing it into his mouth. “It’s really good,” he said, swallowing up the food in his mouth.

“Don’t forget to have one or two of the lime wedges.  Staves off gum disease,” said Arthur.  That was what the fairies had told him, anyway, and the evidence seemed to support it.  God only knew why, but he wasn’t going to question it.  Perhaps it was just magic.  He himself took a small bite of the fish, by that point used to small portions.  When one lived on a ship, one had to be able to make do with less, even on nights where he decided to treat himself to something nice.

Alfred nodded, taking one of the wedges and shoving it in his mouth. He cringed a bit at it, sucking the juice out before taking a bite of the actual fruit. He wouldn’t argue with Arthur over whether it was true or not. He could eat a bit of sour fruit to make the pirate content.

“And have another sip of rum, too.  We can’t let it go to waste,” said Arthur, taking a shot of it, himself.  He made sure to pace himself, though; he’d already had a little bit earlier that day, while Alfred was supposed to have been cleaning.  He didn’t want to end up going through all that effort just to get wasted, himself.  As much as he’d tried to condition himself, he was still only moderately good at holding liquor, himself, though he’d improved greatly since his days on Francis’ ship.  Uhg, he could just hear that frog’s voice in his head, if they ever met again.  ‘Still getting hangovers from a single shot of wine, I see?’ he would say, in that God-awful French accent.

Alfred nodded, picking up the glass of rum and downing it. Again he could feel goosebumps rise on his skin as his body trembled. It tasted just as bad as the first shot and he had to wonder how anyone could actually drink and enjoy the stuff.

Arthur watched Alfred’s face carefully, intent on seeing just how much of an effect the alcohol was having.  As embarrassing as it was to admit, Alfred was larger than he was, and could quite possibly take a little more before his mind began going fuzzy.  Still, just to be on the safe side, he decided to wait it out.  He could always get him more drunk, but he couldn’t take the alcohol back once it was in his system.  Best to try to gauge his mental state through conversation.  “So, did you enjoy your revenge today?”

Alfred had to admit his head was feeling a bit fuzzy, warmth spreading over his body. “N-No…” he responded, setting down his fork at that. Okay, it had felt a little good to teach those men a lesson but at the same time it made him feel like Arthur, and the last thing he wanted was to become like the pirate.

Maybe just a touch more.  Arthur poured him a half a shot, just before downing another, himself.  “Oh, really?  You seemed to be having a good time,” he mused, taking another bite of the fish.  He actually quite liked the taste of rum.  He still had fuzzy memories of better days, when he was a young child drinking the stuff with his parents.  “I’m proud of you, you know.”

Alfred downed the rum, setting his glass down a bit clumsily. He was already starting to feel it’s effects. “I-I just wanted them to feel what I felt,” he said, trying to convince himself he was nothing like Arthur. Taking his fork he ate another bite of salmon, hoping the pirate would just drop the subject.

“But it felt good, didn’t it?” said Arthur, grinning.  He didn’t pour any more rum; he wanted to see if Alfred had had enough yet.  “Don’t tell me you didn’t like having that sort of power over another person, to see them suffer as you suffered.”  Such a child.  The best way to control people wasn’t with the threat of revenge, it was with preemptive discipline!  BEFORE they got the chance to act out to such a major degree!

Alfred chewed on his bottom lip, slowly nodding his head. “I-It only felt good because they had hurt me,” he said, reaching forward and taking a bite of the corn. He was nothing like Arthur, who enjoyed torturing others for his own amusement.

“Doesn’t it make you happy that you made an example of them?  That no one else will ever dare do what they did to you again?” prodded Arthur, contemplating possibly giving Alfred just one more half a shot.  “Surely you wanted to earn their respect… Their fear.”

“I-I wanted them to know the pain I felt is all,” Alfred said, stumbling over his words just a bit. He did not enjoy torturing others for fun!

Yes, he definitely needed one more half a shot.  Arthur poured it into the glass, then set the bottle down.  If that didn’t get the job done, he didn’t know what would.  “Of course, darling.  So, why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself?  Your family, perhaps?  I heard you have a brother.”

Alfred audibly groaned as he saw the pirate pour more rum, reaching forward and downing it as quick as he could. “Yeah, we’re twins,” he said, the alcohol starting to affect him a bit. “Until you tore me away from him at least.”

“I’ll tell you what,” said Arthur; he wasn’t sure why, but he just had a good feeling that perhaps Alfred would be the one pet that stuck around a little longer than the others.  As it was, he was already on the upper end of the spectrum.  Though, he’d had that feeling at least twice before, and had been wrong on both occasions.  “You behave yourself, train hard, and give me your loyalty, and the next time we’re in the area - which, in case you’re worried I’m trying to trick you, we will return to in less than a year’s time - we’ll drop by for a visit.  See how the dear old family is holding up.”  He almost wanted to see that.  To watch Alfred’s hopes and dreams be crushed by their inevitable rejection.  He didn’t seem to want to admit it, but he’d already changed too much to ever be able to return to that life and gain acceptance from the others.

Alfred could barely believe it, eyes going wide as he stared at the pirate. “E-Even if that was true how would you find em,” he said, words slurred just a bit. His family could be anywhere, after all they obviously would have had to have moved after Arthur’s crew destroyed his village.

“Even if they’ve moved - and Puritans are a stubborn lot, let me tell you - they can’t have gone very far.  What, are they going to move the entire population to a new settlement?  They’ll just latch on to whatever is closest until they can rebuild,” said Arthur.  Their persistence was about the only admirable thing about them, in his not-so-humble opinion.  They were horrible customers, too; all that talk of not placing value on material goods… “We’ll have plenty of time come late Fall to see dear old mummy and daddy again before we set sail for England.”  He had some under-the-table deliveries to make… He’d have to make a stop in France, too.  Damn it.

Alfred wasn’t too optimistic about the whole thing but if there was just the slightest chance of seeing his family again he would do whatever it took. Clumsily he took a bite of the corn, his head already starting to spin from the rum.

“How cute,” said Arthur as his adorable little ‘wife’ struggled to eat the corn.  He himself hadn’t had much to drink at all, and he was surprised that Alfred hadn’t even attempted to point it out.  Still, he supposed he was better off for it.  “Don’t you think it could use a little salt, though?”

“Yeah I guess,”Alfred said, dropping the corn back down onto the plate. He felt warm all over, hoping that Arthur was done with making him drink the rum. He couldn’t even tell if he was drunk, just that his head felt hazy and movements clumsy.

“Good, because I have some for you right here,” said Arthur, motioning towards his trousers.  “You’ll have to get it yourself, though.”  He almost felt sorry for the poor thing.  He looked rather out of it, and he wasn’t yet sure if he looked positively stupid, or completely adorable.  After about a moment of evaluation, he decided that the answer was both.

Alfred had not been expecting that, wishing he had said no to the salt. It was obvious now that he had to do it, especially with Arthur’s little promise just now. “F-Fine,” he muttered, sliding to the floor and crawling up so that he was between Arthur’s legs, hands going up to undo the man’s trousers.

He didn’t appear to have put up much of a fuss, but he still seemed a bit on the reluctant side.  Arthur hoped that someday his spouse would be a little more excited about such acts.  “Come on, love, put it in your mouth.”  Alfred hadn’t sucked him off as much as he would have liked, and his skills were in dire need of improvement.  “Remember to use your tongue, and suck.”

Alfred nodded, taking Arthur’s cock in his right hand before moving his mouth down and over the tip. It did taste a bit salty he thought to himself, shutting his eyes as he began to move his head up and down.

“There’s a good pet.  Keep moving your head like that, you’re doing a great job,” praised Arthur, hoping to strike just the right balance between the carrot and the stick.  It was clear he needed a little more stick, but that didn’t mean he wanted to completely eliminate the carrot.

Alfred simply did as told, continuing to bob his head, letting his tongue drag along the sides. He doubted he was doing that well with his slight drunkenness, a bit of drool sliding down his chin.

Even if Alfred’s performance itself wasn’t fantastic, Arthur had to applaud his effort.  Besides, just watching him make those faces was painfully erotic.  “Now pull it out of your mouth and give it a kiss.”

The request sounded rather weird to Alfred but he was in no position to argue, pulling his head back and letting the man's cock slip from his mouth. Holding it with his hand he leaned down, planting a small kiss to the tip.

“Now lick and kiss both testicles,” he said bluntly.  He didn’t want to leave any room for misinterpretation, given that not only was Alfred drunk, but he was a complete moron to begin with.  If it weren’t for his entertaining attitude and cute face, he would have been dead ages ago.

Alfred nodded, not really thinking about what he was doing. Lifting Arthur's cock up he dragged his tongue along one testicle, then the other before giving both of them a light kiss.

“Good boy.  Tell me how good it tastes,” he ordered.  He highly doubted that it tasted at all good, but that wasn’t the point.  It was much like how he’d forced Alfred to tell him how excited he was to be his ‘wife,’ not too long ago.  It was all about control.  He controlled his actions, his words… Eventually, he hoped to hold a tighter grip on his thoughts, too.

“G-Good,” Alfred mumbled, pulling back to say that before leaning forward again and taking in the head of Arthur’s cock. As long as he said what the pirate wanted things would go smoothly.

“Don’t mumble.  I hate it when people mumble,” said Arthur.  Mumbling was one of the least attractive forms of speech, in his humble opinion.  He expected it to sound fake - there was no way anything down there tasted in any way good - but he wanted a little enthusiasm.  “Do you want it inside you, you filthy whore?”

The alcohol wasn’t helping Alfred much, his eyes looking up at the pirate as he slipped the man’s cock out of his mouth. “Yes, I do,” he said, much more clearly this time. It wasn’t like he could just tell the man no after all.

“Tell me what position you want it in,” said Arthur, doing all he could to get Alfred a little more into what they were doing; he could fuck him whenever he wanted, that was easy enough.  What he really wanted, though, was to have a more eager partner.

“Um, I-I can just lay down on the bed I guess,” Alfred said, chewing on his lower lip. He hated how the pirate was letting him choose such things. He didn’t want that, he’d rather just be forced into it, at least then he could keep convincing himself he didn’t want it.

How boring.  His little Puritan pet really needed to get an imagination.  Ah, well.  If he pushed him into anything else, he wouldn’t be able to pin the idea on Alfred.  “As you wish.”  At the very least, he hoped he wouldn’t be such a dead lay, and would take a more active role once he was in the mood.  “But before that, why don’t you touch yourself for me?”

Alfred held in his groan at hearing that command, slowly standing up and moving over to the pirate’s bed, sitting down on the edge and scooting so that his back was now resting against the headboard. Taking a deep breath he spread his legs, fingers wrapping around his own cock as he began to stroke it.

Arthur remained in his seat, though he turned to better watch the show.  “You have two hands,” he said, as though Alfred weren’t aware of that fact.  “Use the other one to stretch yourself.  Unless, of course, you want me to go in dry.”

“Y-Yes,” Alfred said, lifting his legs more as he brought his fingers to his lips, coating them in saliva before reaching down between his legs, shoving a finger inside. He hissed at the initial pain, the alcohol helping him however to relax around it.

“Good boy.  Now,” he continued, because Alfred wasn’t yet very interesting unless he had some outside prompts.  “I want you to pretend that those are my fingers, understand?”  He wasn’t sure that Alfred would even get it; knowing him, if he weren’t under the threat of death, he would ask something silly, like, ‘Why even have me imagine that if you’re right there?  Why not just do it yourself?’

If Alfred had been completely sober he would have thought more before talking but thanks to the alcohol his mind was a bit clouded. “Wh-Why?” he asked, still clumsily moving his hands.

“Because I said so,” said Arthur, pulling his gun out of his pocket and aiming it straight at Alfred’s stupid blonde head.  “I believe we went over this ages ago; if I say you’re a dog, you bark.  If something I say doesn’t make sense to you, you do it anyway.”  Honestly, some people were as stupid as a pile of bricks.

Alfred flinched as the gun was brought out, unable to hold back a few tears that fell down his cheeks. It was just an innocent question there was no need for the pirate to overreact! “S-Sorry,” he whimpered, closing his eyes and trying to do what he was told.

Arthur laughed at the reaction, and how quickly his toy had changed his tune.  “I don’t ask for much.  Just your complete obedience to my every whim.”  He put the gun back in its holster, and began taking off his clothes.

“Y-Yes,” Alfred said, opening his eyes as he heard the sound of clothes shuffling, seeing that the pirate was undressing himself. He pushed a second finger inside himself, hoping that Arthur would actually do a better job preparing him.

“Yes, what?” demanded Arthur, tossing his shirt to the side to lean over Alfred.  “You will address me as ‘sir,’ or ‘master’ when I fuck you.  Unless, of course, you’d rather get affectionate.  I’m partial to ‘dear’ or ‘honey.’ ”  He smirked, knowing full well that Alfred was still uncomfortable with the idea of their sham of a union.

“Y-Yes sir,” Alfred whimpered, his hands stopping as the pirate got over him. He closed his eyes, chewing his lower lip again as he withdrew his fingers and waited for Arthur to do something.

“Did I tell you to take your fingers out?” snapped Arthur.  “Do you think you know what I’m thinking?  Can you read minds?  Can you?”  He wasn’t sure why he felt so angry.  Perhaps he shouldn’t have touched the alcohol, himself.  No matter how much he tried to build up his tolerance, it seemed painfully low.  Even if he wasn’t a slobbering drunk, just a little bit seriously impacted his decision-making capacity.  “No?  Then put your God-damned fingers back in your fucking ass, you bitch.”

Alfred was taken aback by Arthur’s sudden outburst, fresh tears running down his face as he was yelled at. “I-I’m sorry sir,” he choked out, shoving two fingers back inside of himself. It was just an honest mistake, he didn’t get why Arthur was so mad.

God damn it, he didn’t want Alfred to cry, either.  Stupid alcohol.  Why did something that felt so good have to make him lose his head?  If it weren’t for all the stress he went through on a regular basis, he wouldn’t even drink the stuff.  “There, there,” he said, giving Alfred a kiss on the forehead.  “Hush, now. Just do as I say, and I won’t have to threaten or yell at you, okay?  I don’t want to have to hurt you.  You have such a pretty face.”  He had pretty teeth, too.  They’d make a fine necklace…

Alfred nodded, sniffling as he was kissed. It was oddly comforting but it helped calm him down. It must be the alcohol making him so easily cry he figured, really not knowing how such things were even supposed to affect him.

“Such lovely skin.  I can’t stand that ghastly pale that all those upper-class men and women strive for.  It makes them look ill,” mused Arthur, cupping Alfred’s face in his hands; despite the amount of time he’d spent below deck, he’d still retained a decent tan.  Arthur made a mental note to get him back out and about before he, too, had that sickly complexion.  “And what a handsome face!  I can’t help but feel happy when I remember that it’s all mine.”  He licked Alfred’s cheek, staying away from the lips that had so recently sucked on his cock.

The compliments felt so out of place to Alfred, eyes slipping shut as the pirate gently kissed and licked him. “Th-Thanks..” he said, his cock half-hard in his hand that had again stopped stroking it, too distracted now by the pirate.

“Keep stroking yourself,” said Arthur firmly, though he pulled away the hand Alfred was using to finger himself to insert his own.  “You’re not very good at putting on a show, yet, so I’ll let you off easy.  But I expect you to work hard and learn how to please me.”  For as many mistakes as Alfred made, he couldn’t bring himself to kill him.

Alfred gasped as the pirate suddenly penetrated him, moving his hand to stroke his cock. Did the man want him practicing alone? He didn't want to but anything was better than an angry Arthur. "S-sorry sir."

Arthur pushed two fingers in and out of Alfred’s hole; he’d done a decent job stretching himself, but as expected, it was far from satisfactory.  The pirate nipped at his nose and smiled down at him.  “Your belly is starting to swell up already…” he teased.

Alfred immediately looked down, not noticing anything different. "I-It is?" He asked, the alcohol had made him forget about that. Was it really bigger? He never looked at his own stomach often so maybe it really was.

“Isn’t it wonderful?  You’ll be such a good mother,” said Arthur.  Alfred’s neck, he decided, didn’t have nearly as many bite marks as he would have liked.  On one hand, he didn’t want them to be too obvious, in case he had to take Alfred out in public for some reason, but on the other, he couldn’t stand to let it stay smooth.  With both of those things in mind, he decided to bite into Alfred’s shoulder, which would be easy to hide under almost any article of clothing.

Alfred hissed as he was suddenly bitten, sparks of pleasure shooting straight down to his cock that his hand was still clumsily stroking. He kept quiet about the mother remark, knowing there was nothing to do but wait and see if it was a lie.

“Still, I can’t help but wonder if you’re responsible enough to take care of a child,” said Arthur, dragging a finger up Alfred’s neck and stopping beneath his chin.  “Perhaps I should just slit its throat and save you the trouble of having to take care of it, instead?  I can do that, if you’d like, my darling.”  Whether or not Alfred fully believed him, he wanted to see how he would react to such a proposal.

"What? No!" Alfred practically shouted, averting his gaze from the pirate. As much as he did not like the idea of being pregnant or having a child the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to kill it.

“So you do want to be a mother, then?” said Arthur, not feeling at all bad about trying to push Alfred into particular answers.  He was a pirate.  Pirates didn’t play fair.  “That’s good.  I didn’t want to kill it, either, but I was worried you might not be as excited as I am.”

Alfred kept quiet. He wasn't excited but he certainly couldn't let the man kill their own child. If he was even pregnant that was. He really wasn't sure. He instead let his eyes fall shut, moving his hand faster now on his cock.

Arthur pulled his fingers out, satisfied with his handiwork; the alcohol seemed to have relaxed Alfred to the point where he wasn’t quite as tense as he usually was, making it much easier to prepare him for the main event.  He pressed the tip against Alfred’s hole, but didn’t yet enter; instead, he teasingly prodded his entrance, staring down at his prey as though he were a slab of meat.

Alfred squirmed a bit, wondering why Arthur was just sitting still. “Nngg.." he whimpered, hand still on his cock. He was too scared to move it after what had happened earlier.

Well, he obviously wasn’t going to do it without prompting.  “Beg for it,” ordered Arthur.  Perhaps he had himself to blame.  He’d ordered Alfred not to make assumptions about how to please him, and begging probably fell under that category.  “I’ll never punish you for begging for me, you know… Unless you do it in woefully inappropriate situations, of course.”

Alfred nodded, eyes tightly shut as he obeyed the other. "P-Please.." he whimpered, really not wanting to say it. “Please ah, p-put yourself inside of me," hopefully that would be good enough for the pirate.

“Of course.  Who could deny such a needy face?” said Arthur, gently sliding his cock in.  It was quite refreshing, how easy it was to do compared to previous attempts.  Although it was still obvious that Alfred wasn’t yet comfortable with what they were doing, he was making so little progress that any change at all gave him a surge of satisfaction.

Alfred grit his teeth together as he was penetrated, a few tears forming in his eyes. Even with the alcohol it still hurt, his body stretching to accommodate the pirate. His hand had stopped moving again, simply gripping his cock as he tried to relax around the other.

“Easy, there, love.  Stay strong.  If you can’t even stretch this far, you’ll never be able to deliver a child,” said Arthur, rubbing Alfred’s belly like one would a dog.  He gave Alfred only a brief moment to adjust before he began to thrust in and out of his young body, his muscles only slightly diminished from the lack of hard labour throughout the past several weeks.  Although one needed to be muscular for both farming and combat, depending on the particular activity, it would build up different parts of the body.  He was eager to see just what his body looked like when he was done sculpting it into a ruthless killing machine.

Alfred’s eyes slipped shut as the pirate began to move, the friction painful against his insides. He ignored the child comment, his mind muddled and hazy with his eyes closed, feeling like he was spinning a bit. He was unable to hold back his vocalizations though, grunts and gasps escaping his throat each time Arthur moved.

“It figures.  No matter how much you say you hate it, you always end up enjoying yourself in the end,” taunted Arthur.  One day, he was going to convince Alfred to give in.  One day.  Unfortunately, Alfred was incredibly stubborn.  On top of that, he came from a particularly hard-headed faith.  Sometimes it felt like he was trying to train a brick wall.

Alfred knew it was true, no matter how hard he tried to hide it he always ended up liking it in the end. It was so disgraceful, to be enjoying such things. He reached up, covering his face with his arms as he got louder, whimpers turning into moans.

Arthur didn’t wait much longer to speed up; Alfred was by no means a professional-grade whore, but he wasn’t a virgin anymore, either.  It probably didn’t help that he was a bit on the tipsy side.  “Don’t cover up your face.  You have such lovely eyes… I want to see them begging for me.”  He batted Alfred’s arms out of the way.

Even though Alfred’s arms were moved his eyes remained tightly shut, a few tears slipping out of them as Arthur picked up the pace. It was painful but at the same time his own cock was leaking precum, body squirming in pleasure.

“Open your eyes, Alfred.  Stop pretending you’re somewhere else, and look at me!” he snapped, his temper once again getting the best of him thanks to the alcohol.  Why did he have to be such a bloody lightweight?

Alfred did as told, not wanting to anger Arthur even more. The pirate seemed to be so on edge when drunk Alfred could only hope the man wouldn’t lose control and end up hurting him.

“There, was that so hard?” asked Arthur, stroking his cheek.  He dragged his tongue along Alfred’s chest as he usually did, leaving a trail of saliva behind; his skin tasted of sweat and grime, but the pirate captain hardly minded.  Briefly, he tried to remember the last time he’d taken a bath; last month?  The month before that?  Either way, he supposed the both of them were due for one.  Maybe when they next pulled ashore, he’d give the men a chance to get in the water.  And not just because he wanted to see Alfred all wet.  Definitely not.

Alfred did his best to keep his eyes open, groaning as the pirate dragged his tongue along his chest. His cock begged to be touched, his hand long ago having moved from it. He knew Arthur said begging was allowed but he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it, no matter how badly he wanted it.

Arthur, however, wasn’t about to touch it of his own volition, and shortly after, he decided to pin Alfred’s wrists down on either side of his body, denying him the ability to even do it himself.  There were times during which he felt small twinges of what he was sure other people might classify as ‘guilt;’ right then was not one of those moments, however, and he sank his teeth into Alfred’s throat, not really caring how painful or uncomfortable it was for his toy.

Alfred screamed out as the other bit his throat, his eyes shutting again as he swore he felt a bit of blood run out. “P-Please,” he whimpered, knowing that wouldn’t be good enough for Arthur but he was too embarrassed to ask for it.

Arthur lifted his head up.  “Please, what?” he asked; not just because he was trying to be an arse (for once) but because he actually wasn’t quite sure what it was Alfred was asking for.  “Use complete sentences.”

“P-Please, touch me,” Alfred whimpered, his cock begging for attention. He couldn’t tell if Arthur was teasing him or not, a few tears slipping down his face.

“Hm, that?  Touch yourself, if you want it so much,” said Arthur simply, releasing Alfred’s wrists to continue pounding into his much-abused hole, relishing not only the physical pleasure, but the sheer joy of dominating another human being.

Alfred wanted to cry at that, feeling so frustrated by everything. He didn’t care anymore, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around his hard cock, stroking it in time with Arthur’s thrusting.

“See, once you give in, it’s so easy,” purred Arthur, doing all that he could to find new and interesting ways of tormenting Alfred with his hands and tongue.  One minute he would be toying with his nipples, and the next he would be sucking on his neck… In his opinion, missionary was getting a little old, but he supposed he could continue humoring Alfred a little longer.  Really, though, he preferred it when he had them on their knees.

Alfred felt so close, squirming as Arthur tormented him. He sped up his stroking, hips jerking up as he came, spilling his seed over his own hand as well as his stomach. "Ah..." he groaned, tiredness suddenly overtaking him.

Arthur was a bit disappointed by how short a time Alfred had lasted; then again, he’d let him touch himself.  In hindsight, that might have been a bad idea.  Not that he cared much if Alfred was enjoying himself while he finished up; after all, it had been HIS decision to touch himself, in the end.  He took his time, not so much as letting up on the rough treatment until he, too, was finished.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys Bea here, I can't believe we haven't updated this fic in soooo long, especially when we have a few chapters already done u.u I'll try and update it more frequently.
> 
> Anyways this chapter involves Francis and some more fun times. Enjoy~

It wasn’t a beautiful day, but Arthur wasn’t going to complain about it being overcast so long as fortune contended to keep it from turning to rain. The docks in the south were fewer and further apart than those up north, but it still wasn’t as unpleasant and lengthy as sailing between continents, as far as his men were concerned.

Arthur placed the folded pile of clothes upon the table for Alfred with great reluctance. “Now, I know I’ve already gone over this with you, but coming ashore with me is a privilege, not a right, understand? Just because you have to wear men’s clothing in public doesn’t mean you’re in any way my equal. And if you even THINK about running, not only will it be twenty lashes, but I’ll never let you off the boat again. Is that understood?”

Alfred nodded, looking down at the pile of clothes. There was no way he was going to run, not after his last unsuccessful escape attempt. He just wanted off of the ship, maybe even a bath. "Thank you," he said, picking up the clothes and beginning to dress. It felt so nice to be in men's clothes again it almost made him smile.

Almost. He was still a captive on a pirate ship after all.

“There’s a good lad,” said Arthur, ruffling his hair. “Now, remember, if anyone asks, I’m your last living relative.” It was the only way he could really explain why he didn’t want Alfred far from his side. If he were just an ordinary sailor, he wouldn’t be keeping such a watchful eye on him. “Not that anyone should ask, but it’s better safe than sorry. Have you worn this sort of clothing before?” He knew Alfred had probably had some decent clothes for church, but he wasn’t sure if he was used to tights or high heels; as much as he hated seeing him in such masculine attire, he knew there was no other option.

"Not really," Alfred said, getting the clothes on however with little problem. "Um, what are we gonna do on shore?" Probably just some business Arthur had to take care of he figured. Even so just getting off of the ship would feel great.

“I don’t care for it, myself, but sixty percent of the crew simply refuses to go on without tobacco. It’s much easier to get down here, especially if we can barter off some eastern wares to the southern gentry,” answered Arthur, not knowing how much of that Alfred understood. Even though he technically lived in much closer proximity to the people of the south and midwest colonies, his village was incredibly isolated. “It should only take a few hours, but I figure you need to stretch your legs. I don’t want you getting fat.”

Alfred looked down at his stomach as he heard that, wondering if he really was getting fat. He honestly had no clue what Arthur was talking about, just what tobacco was and even then he'd never had any. "Thanks," he muttered again, rather grateful he was getting off the ship.

“Okay, there’s submitting to your superiors, and there’s groveling. Come along,” said Arthur, fixing up Alfred’s shirt. From the sound of it, the men had finished tying the ship to the dock, and the anchor had been set. All that remained was to clear customs and stock up on the most expensive inedible leaves to ever exist.

Alfred silently nodded, standing still to let Arthur fix his clothes. He was just trying to show appreciation but it seemed no matter what he did it wasn't good enough.

“I’m only joking, you know. No need to look so down,” said Arthur. He knew it was probably unwanted, but he reached up to pull Alfred down for a kiss on the cheek. Because like hell was he going to stand on his toes. “Keep up the good work, and I might get you something in port. Maybe something sweet, like an apple pie. Does that sound good to you, darling?”

Alfred nodded, the apple pie sounding absolutely wonderful, especially after all of the hardtack he’d been eating lately. He could be good if it meant that reward, it wasn’t like he would run away anyways.

“I thought it might,” said Arthur, smiling warmly, at least in comparison to previous ones. He opened the door to the captain’s quarters and strolled out onto the deck, unable to help but get the feeling that something was going to go horribly wrong. Days didn’t just go by smoothly, for him. The moment he let his guard down, there would be some sort of road bump; someone not showing up when he did roll call, an attempted mutiny, someone in port recognizing him for what he truly was… Still, he’d handled all of those things in the past. Nothing could possibly shock him. Not one-

He stopped dead in his tracks upon seeing the ship across the dock, and immediately ducked out of its line of sight, yanking Alfred along with him.

Alfred had to wonder why Arthur was suddenly moving faster, pulling him along. He didn’t dare ask though, not wanting to upset the other. It felt so nice to be on dry land again, Alfred breathing in the salty air. Still, Arthur was acting a bit strange ever since they got off the ship, had something happened?

“Fucking hell…” breathed Arthur. It was unlikely that any of his men would be recognized, but if that man saw him, he would immediately know who he was. What were the odds that they would be in the exact same port at the exact same time? It didn’t seem possible, and yet there it was. “Alfred, quickly, look around. Do you see a man with wavy blonde hair and a stubbly face?”

Alfred was rather confused, turning his head and scanning the crowd for the man Arthur described. "No, why?" He asked. Was it someone Arthur knew? A rival or maybe someone trying to catch him?

“...No reason,” murmured Arthur. He supposed he could tell the truth, but he didn’t really want to admit that the reason he was hiding like a little girl was because he really didn’t want to see that man ever again. Heck, it wasn’t even as though he were DEFINITELY there. A lot of ships looked the same! So what if it was the same type of vessel? That didn’t mean anything! “I just thought I saw something, that’s all.” The odds of it being that ship were far too low. He was just being paranoid.

Alfred didn't quite believe Arthur but he didn't press any further, simply following the man. "So um, what are we gonna do first?" He asked, trying to forget about Arthur's weird behavior and just enjoy being on shore.

“First, we have to get to the customs office and inform them of our presence. I’m connected well-enough that we can avoid most of the taxes, so you just stand quietly while I negotiate,” he said, continuing down the dock and trying not to appear wary. Wary meant suspicious.

Alfred nodded, following Arthur closely. He could stay quiet no problem, although it really did sound rather boring. "And after?"

“And after, the men will take care of business while we get some apple pie,” answered Arthur, doing his best to resist kissing Alfred on the nose. It would be the death of him if he was caught displaying such deviant behaviors in public. Both literally and figuratively. “Perhaps we can take a proper bath, too. Or at least rinse off in some saltwater…”

"A bath sounds nice," Alfred said, sighing as he thought of that. He felt so awfully sticky and dirty from being on the ship for so long. He knew he couldn't smell that good either.

Arthur smirked a little at the sight of the city on the horizon. “Ever been in a city, lad?” He wasn’t sure if Alfred was quite prepared for what awaited them at the end of the dock. The smell alone had made many of his men from smaller towns and villages throw up over the side of the dock. Luckily, it was a somewhat smaller city than most, but he wondered how long it would be before Alfred begged him to duck indoors.

"Once," Alfred said, remembering when he was young going with his dad to a city. He barely remembered it though. "What is that smell?" He asked, thinking it smelt like the farm back home. "Is there a farm nearby?"

“No, just the city. I suppose it shouldn’t bother you as much, since you’re probably used to the smell of manure,” noted Arthur dryly. He himself hated it, having gotten used to the smell of the fresh, ocean air. At long last, they reached the customs house, and he held the door open for Alfred like a lady would for a gentleman. “Ladies first,” he teased, and those around him merely snickered, registering it as a joke.

Alfred pouted at that, walking in and crossing his arms. He didn't appreciate being laughed at but kept his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was to mess this all up and get those twenty lashes Arthur had threatened.

Arthur followed after Alfred, only to stop. The building was crowded to the point where neither of them could get much further than a few feet in. So much so that a man walked up to them and spoke:

“Excuse me, sir, but because of the number of people we have to process today, we’re asking that only one representative from each ship enter at a time. One of you is going to have to leave.”

That was inconvenient. Arthur exhaled, then turned to Alfred, sizing him up and wondering just how much he could trust him; he really didn’t want to lose his place in line. On the other hand… “Alfred. Do you think you can head back to the ship on your own? I promise I’ll come back and fetch you once my work here is done.” He was looking up at Alfred with a hardened stare, silently threatening him harm if he took advantage of his brief freedom. He was good at tracking people down, and he WOULD find Alfred, wherever he ran.

Alfred nodded, knowing that running away would be absolutely pointless. "Yeah, I'll head right back," he said, looking into Arthur's eyes. He wasn't lying, he knew escape was impossible and he just wanted to enjoy his day out.

“Good lad. Feel free to walk around a bit, if you’d like. They might want some assistance lugging crates around. If anyone acts up, tell them I’ll string them up by their toes,” said Arthur, watching Alfred as he went. He couldn’t shake the feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was a terrible, terrible idea. Sure, he could catch him… But what if something else happened? What if… No, that was ridiculous.

"Alright," Alfred said, forcing a smile for Arthur before heading out. At least the man would still take him out he thought, walking along the dock and towards the ship. Arthur was acting rather strange though he couldn't help but wonder what was wrong.

As soon as Alfred was a decent distance away from the building, however, a stranger walked up to him.

“Ah, how are you today?” asked the man, who had wavy, neck-length blonde hair, and just enough stubble on his chin to look dignified without appearing old.

Alfred looked at the man. He had an accent, French? He couldn't tell. The man appeared to be Arthur's height as well although he looked older. "Um, I'm fine," he said, "but I need to go."

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with something, if you don’t mind me asking,” said the stranger, smiling kindly and adjusting his fashion-forward attire. There was nothing about him that seemed particularly suspicious. “I’ve asked some of the others, but alas, they rudely turn away the moment they hear my accent!” He pressed his fingers to his forehead, looking genuinely distressed. “Please, I beg of you. It will only be a moment of your time!”

Alfred really wasn't sure about it but the man seemed rather desperate. "Well, okay sure. But I do need to head back soon." He said, hoping Arthur wouldn't find out about this. He'd definitely head back to ship after this.

“Oh, thank you so much! It’s good to know that Britain has such fine young men!” said the stranger, looking positively delighted. “Please, follow me. I apologize for taking up your time. I don’t usually like to ask things of complete strangers, but I’m in a bit of a mess…” He began leading Alfred down one of the docks; not the one Arthur’s ship was tied to, but the one right beside it.

Alfred was about to say he was from the colonies but kept quiet, nervously following the Frenchman. "What's wrong?" He asked, looking around for any signs of Arthur.

“Well, if you’d just come onto the ship, it’s rather, ah, self-explanatory,” murmured Francis, as though he were embarrassed. “Again, I do apologize. I’m certain you have places to be, and things to do. But I just can’t get anyone else to assist me…”

Alfred really had a bad feeling about this. "Do I need to board the ship?" He asked, taking a deep breath. He could run, but part of him was scared said man would pull a pistol out if he did. It would be best to just help him and hurry back.

“It’ll only be a moment, I promise!” the stranger assured him, leading him up the ramp to his vessel; the very same one that Arthur had looked at with such wariness only ten minutes prior. “It’s fine if you can’t, though. I’m sure I’ll… Find someone else… Hopefully.” He had a depressed look on his face.

"What do you need?" Alfred asked, slowly following the man. Alfred hadn't noticed how Arthur had looked at the ship earlier but he still felt uneasy. "I really gotta get back soon."

The moment they got on the ship, someone grabbed Alfred from behind.

“You know,” said the stranger, brushing his hair from his face. “I was wondering how Arthur managed to catch you, and now I understand. You’re terribly gullible. No offense.”

Arthur? How did this man know Arthur? Alfred tried to struggle free from the stranger holding him, fear rising up inside him as he began to realize what was happening, that he was being kidnapped.

“Well, our business has been concluded here,” said Francis with a shrug. He switched languages, leaving Alfred unable to understand him. “Raise the anchor! We’re leaving!” He turned to one of the men. “Did you leave the note?”

“Oui, we left it with the customs official to give to Arthur when he gets to the front of the line.”

“Splendid.”

Francis turned back to Alfred, and switched back to English. “So, tell me, how is my darling Arthur these days? Is he well?”

Was this that Francis that Arthur had told him about? The man was French, and did just kidnap him after all. “L-Let me go!” he screamed, still putting up a struggle. He hated to even think it but he just wanted to get off this man’s ship and back to Arthur’s.

Francis took Alfred’s face in his hands, and forced his mouth open, gazing into it as though he were inspecting a horse. “Hmm, no gum disease. That’s good. I’d rather have live bait,” he mused. “Such a feisty little thing, though, aren’t you? Hasn’t he bothered to train you?”

“Shut up!” Alfred shouted, holding in the tears that threatened to fall. This man was so arrogant, just like Arthur. “Let me go! I’m sure Arthur will come and get me if you don’t.” he continued to struggle, not going to give in so easily.

Francis laughed, as though Alfred had just told him the funniest joke he’d ever heard. “Arthur? How terrifying! You are aware that I was the one to train Arthur, are you not? Or perhaps he hasn’t told you of me. My name is Francis Bonnefoy.”

“He’s told me all about you,” Alfred said, a disgusted look on his face as he glared at Francis. The man seemed so...sleazy, even worse than Arthur. “What the hell do you want with me anyways?

A pair of handcuffs were clicked around Alfred’s wrists, holding them behind his back even as the man let him go; Francis grabbed him by the collar of his shirt to make sure he didn’t run. “I was so surprised to see that ship pull into port! More so when I spotted Arthur onboard giving orders. I had to duck out of the way so he couldn’t see me, of course, or he might have tried to confront me.” The ship began to move. “Your position on the ship was obvious from the way he treated you. So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to use you to get him back. Technically, you’re worthless to him, but his pride just won’t allow him to let me take you without a fight.”

Alfred could feel the ship move, getting more and more worried about how he’d be saved. Francis seemed confident though that the man would find them. “Take him back?” Alfred asked, chewing on his lower lip. Did this mean Francis wouldn’t hurt him? Although really he doubted that.

“Of course!” said Francis, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes, as though he were thinking about something romantic. “My little kitten! I thought him lost forever, but to think that fate would bring him back to me!” One of the men quickly grabbed Alfred by the arm so he couldn’t get away after he’d been released by the captain. “He, too, was a feisty one. Just when I thought I’d broken him, he staged a terrible mutiny, and ran off with about a third of my crew!” Francis took Alfred’s arm, allowing the other man to get back to work, and started pulling him towards the door to the captain’s quarters. “I’ll have to punish him, of course, and I’ll start by ravaging his little pet. Pets can’t have pets, after all.”

Alfred should have known this was coming, after all Arthur had said Francis was even worse than him. “Y-You don’t need to do that!” he screamed, struggling in Francis’s grip. He couldn’t believe he had been so gullible, letting himself be kidnapped so easily again.

A long, skinny rapier was at Alfred’s throat in a second. “Fight back, and I’ll cut your throat open. I don’t need live bait. I merely prefer it. You’re just as good to me dead as you are alive.” He shoved Alfred through the door, and slammed it behind the both of them. “I trust you know how to remove your clothes.”

“I’m handcuffed,” Alfred said, huffing as he glared at the Frenchman. He just wanted to get off this ship and return to Arthur. He didn’t trust Francis, the man was way worse than Arthur already.

“What, he hasn’t taught you how to remove your clothes with your teeth yet? That was one of the first lessons I taught him!” sighed Francis. Caring little for its worth, he sliced his blade straight through Alfred’s clothing, over and over again, until all his shirts both over and under had been removed from his body. From there, he began pulling down the trousers around Alfred’s waist.

Alfred did his best to stay still, not wanting to be cut by the blade. “You’re disgusting,” he spat, shivering in the cool air as he was stripped. Tears began to run down his cheeks by now, wondering how long it would take Arthur to find him.

“No more disgusting than Arthur, certainly. Unless you’ve already begun to fall for him,” said Francis, not at all appreciative of such harsh words. He stood up straight, only then noticing that Alfred was a little taller than him. Funny. Not that he cared, but he knew that, by extension, he was probably taller than Arthur, too. Apparently he’d gotten over the height insecurities he’d once had when he was younger. He wondered if Arthur still had hair insecurities, too… “Now, since you’re saying such nasty things, perhaps your tongue can be sweetened with a kiss.” He pressed his lips to Alfred’s, and pushed his tongue up against them.

Alfred was flat out disgusted by the kiss, not even thinking as he bit down against the intruder’s tongue, not harsh enough to draw blood but definitely enough to make it painful. It was disgusting enough when Arthur kissed him, Francis was even worse.

Francis immediately pulled his head away, his otherwise handsome-enough face contorted with rage. “How dare you? I ought to skewer you where you stand!” He touched his fingers to his lip with one hand, and drew his sword in the other. “Get on your knees, and die with dignity!”

Alfred immediately regretted what he did, taking a step back as he stared at the sword. He didn’t want to die, he had fought for so long already to stay alive. “I-I’m sorry, please,” he whimpered, getting down on his knees like he was told.

Francis drew his arm back, as though he were about to strike. He held that pose for one long moment, then burst into laughter and lowered his sword. “You’re just as amusing as he was! You know, I was just going to kill you once I got Arthur back, but I think I might keep you both.” Already, he couldn’t help but start to fantasize; he’d put one of them on top of the other, bent over the bed, and fuck them in turns. “You’ll have to convince me you’re worth keeping, though.” He couldn’t just let Alfred get off without any punishment, of course. He grabbed him by the hair, yanked him upwards, and gave him a solid punch to the gut.

Alfred screamed as he was punched, his mind immediately thinking to what Arthur had been saying for so long now. That he was pregnant. “S-Stop, you’ll kill it!” he screamed, feeling as if he was going to throw up.

Francis let him drop to the ground, terribly confused. Not by the ‘stop’ part, oh no. It was what came after that. “Kill what? You? Don’t tell me Arthur’s filled your head with tales of the thousands of tiny organisms in your stomach that help you digest food.” Much as he loved his little kitten, he was completely insane; all those tales of his fairy friends, and the things they told him about the world.

“A-Arthur told me I was pregnant,” Alfred said, clutching his stomach. He hoped Francis wouldn’t think that was stupid, after all even he was still unsure about the whole pregnancy thing. “S-So don’t hit me there.”

Hoping Francis didn’t think he was stupid wasn’t going to stop Francis from thinking he was stupid. The statement was enough to get the Frenchman laughing so hard that he almost dropped his sword. This one was definitely a keeper. “P-pregnant?” he repeated, trying to catch his breath. “Men can’t get pregnant!”

“S-So Arthur was lying to me?” Alfred asked, feeling rather stupid. He hated being laughed at, wishing he would have kept his mouth shut about it. It was a relief though to know it wasn’t true.

“Yes, you imbecile! I can’t believe you believed him for even a moment!” cackled Francis, clutching his stomach; his sides were beginning to hurt. At long last, though, he managed to get himself under control. “It’s no wonder you’re still with him. You’re dumber than a stump.” He flicked the sword across Alfred’s cheek, giving him a light scrape without actually drawing blood. “Still, credit where it’s due, at least he picked someone with a good body. Now open your mouth. If you try to bite me at any point, I really will kill you.” He undid his trousers. He wasn’t going to receive oral just yet, though, oh no…

Tears ran down Alfred’s cheeks as he was insulted, sinking down to his knees. He assumed the man wanted him to suck him off after all. “I-It’s not my fault. I’m from a small Puritain village,” he had never been taught much about such things. He did feel rather stupid though, the Frenchman’s laughter not helping matters.

“Even then, you should know better than to think men can get pregnant!” laughed Francis. “Where did you expect the baby to come out?” Ah, well, he could taunt Alfred later. Right then, though, he wanted to piss him off. And what better way to do that than to piss on him? Before Alfred could close his mouth, a stream of urine splashed up against his face.

Alfred screamed as he was suddenly hit in the face with piss, shutting his eyes as it ran down his face. It was disgusting but he dared not move, knowing the man wouldn’t hesitate to kill him if he messed up.

Alfred was lucky that Francis had just gone not too long ago, and there wasn’t much left in his bladder. As appealing a look as it was, he wasn’t about to lick someone covered in urine, so Francis dumped a cloth over Alfred’s head and began to dry him off. “Such a baby. Don’t tell me you weren’t expecting that.” At least he hadn’t started sobbing. “Arthur cried when I did that to him, you know. Of course, he was barely thirteen…”

"You're disgusting," Alfred snapped, letting the man dry him off. It made him wonder if he would turn out like Arthur as well. He felt like throwing up, the smell of urine heavy in his nose. God he hoped Arthur would save him, as terrible as the pirate was he hated Francis even more.

“Now, now, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that even a little bit,” said Francis, tossing the towel aside. He knew better than to keep a lot of finery in his quarters; much as he loved finery, he kept that to his vacation home back in France. Too many men and women came to his room for him to risk putting anything expensive in there. “To think, I had so wanted to be nice. But you’ve been so unkind!” He pushed Alfred down to the hardwood floor with his foot, pinning him on his back beneath his boot. “Much as I hate to soil the unwed, I’m afraid I can’t just let Arthur go on thinking you’re his, now, can I?”

Alfred grunted as he was pushed down, a sob escaping his throat. He was so frightened, trembling as the other spoke. Why did he have to be so gullible? He should have just went straight back to Arthur's ship like he was told.

Francis whipped his blade across Alfred’s neck, again just enough to leave a scratch. “Don’t worry. I’ve been swinging swords since I was barely a boy. You’ve nothing to fear if you hold still.” He repeated the action with Alfred’s arms, as if daring him to struggle. “So does Arthur let you take him? Or are you strictly a bottom?” He brought the sword down to Alfred’s cock, giving it a gentle, threatening poke.

Alfred yelped as he was scratched by the sword, flinching each time Francis swung it. "N-No he doesn't let me," he whimpered, shivering as the cold blade touched his cock.

“Such a shame,” mused an unsurprised Francis. “You should see him when he begs! Always an angry look on his face, a permanent scowl even in the deepest throes of pleasure!” He dragged the blade gently across Alfred’s length. Needless to say, the younger captive was extremely lucky that he hadn’t had it sharpened in the past few months. “Now, how will you beg, I wonder?” His own cock was still out, and he held it in the hand that wasn’t on the handle of his rapier. He pressed the tip of his boot to Alfred’s lips. “Kiss it, won’t you?”

Alfred had a hard time imagining Arthur begging and submitting to anyone, whimpering as his cock hardened. He shut his eyes as Francis's boot pressed at his lips, puckering them and giving a light kiss to the toe.

“Good boy. You know your place,” said Francis, finally sheathing the sword. He pulled his boot back and rubbed it against Alfred’s length. “Where should I have you upon his arrival, I wonder? I think I’ll tie you up with a metal rod penetrating you. Doesn’t that sound lovely?” He pulled a thin, wiry device out of his pocket. Somehow, he doubted that Alfred had ever had his urethra invaded.

Alfred whimpered again, opening his eyes and seeing Francis pull out a small rod. "Wh-what is that?" He asked, almost too scared to hear the answer. He wondered if Arthur could really rescue him or would they both end up slaves to this man?

“This? This is none other than a device to penetrate that which can’t be filled by a cock,” answered Francis. He finally lifted his foot off of Alfred, and motioned for him to get to his feet. It would be a tricky task with his wrists chained together, for sure, but not an impossible one. “If you’ll kindly lay down on the bed for me, we can begin.”

Alfred had no idea what the other was talking about, getting on his knees and unsteadily standing himself up. He moved back to the bed, lying down on it. "What do you mean?" He asked, lower lip trembling as he held in his sobs.

Francis took Alfred’s cock in hand, and stroked it to its full hardness. “I mean this hole, dearest- oh, I don’t believe I got your name!” he realized, a smile on his face. “How thoughtless of me!” He pressed the tip to Alfred’s slit. “What are you called?”

Alfred gasped as he realized what Francis was doing. "A-Alfred and y-you can't put that there," he whimpered, scared the other would end up hurting him.

“Alfred?” he repeated. Such an ugly name, as far as he was concerned. Of course, he wasn’t very fond of English names in general. “How cute! Worry not, dearest Alfred, I’m well-practiced. I used to do this to Arthur all the time!” He spoke as though he were talking about doing something innocent with a child of his, rather than violating them in every possible orifice.

Alfred was breathing heavily, eyes on the small rod places at his urethra. "B-But..." he whimpered, a sob cutting himself off. He was frightened that this would permanently injure him, trying to be as still as possible.

“Hush. It’s easier if you’re relaxed,” advised Francis, slipping the rod into Alfred’s hole. It was thin enough that getting it in isn’t an impossible task, but it was quite clearly Alfred’s first time having anything non-liquid go through there. “See? You’re doing good so far!”

Alfred hissed in pain, the cool rod slipping into his cock. It felt so strange, like he had to piss but couldn't. "P-Please.." he whimpered, staying as still as possible.

“Ssssh, Arthur didn’t whimper nearly as much as you are,” said Francis. No, Arthur had been much more prone to swearing and screaming at him, which of course only meant that the activity would last longer. Such a foul mouth on that one once he was behind closed doors; all those claims of being a gentleman went straight out the window.

Alfred didn't care what Arthur did, if anything he would just prefer Francis to be quiet. The rod felt so strange, Alfred worried he'd end up pissing himself when it was taken out. "Y-You're disgusting," he snapped, wishing he could cover his face.

“Now that sounds more like my little kitten,” said Francis, already feeling nostalgic. How many years had it been? Too many, that was for sure. He’d had many partners, but Arthur had always been one of his favorites, even if every food item he touched turned to stone. Francis was a good enough chef for the both of them, though, unfortunately, it was considered unbecoming of a captain to partake in such endeavors. He pushed the rod further in. “I highly recommend that you remain still and don’t struggle. This requires a steady hand.”

Alfred was doing his best to stay still, barely even breathing in fear that Francis would end up scratching him. “Ah, p-please, get it out,” he cried, already hating Francis way more than Arthur. At least Arthur had never done this to him.

“If you keep whining, I’ll give you a piercing here,” teased Francis, noticing the earring Alfred was wearing. So Arthur had learned from him, after all. “Just like I’ll have to do to punish Arthur when I get him back.” He was a bit offended by Alfred’s obvious lack of confidence in his abilities. It wasn’t as though he were some amateur. He’d only ever punctured someone’s bladder once, and that was because it had been intentional.

Alfred’s eyes opened wide in shock at hearing that, wondering if it was even possible to pierce one’s cock. He wondered how long it would take Arthur to find him, after all escape was now impossible since Francis’s ship had already taken off to sea.

Francis gently thrust the thin rod in and out of Alfred’s cock, pleased by his silence. Just about everyone could be controlled by fear, and those that couldn’t were useless, and better off dead. He wasn’t about to hold it against Alfred that he was so easily frightened. After all, piracy was not an honorable profession, and Francis himself was not ashamed to admit that he’d turned tail to run when the going got rough. There was no point in dying just so people wouldn’t see you as a coward, especially not when you were already viewed as a criminal in the first place.

Alfred couldn’t help but groan as the rod was thrusted in his cock, the feeling of needing to piss driving him insane. It felt so strange, the pain was practically gone now but Alfred wasn’t sure what he was feeling, a small bit of pleasure rising in him as he got more and more used to the rod in his cock.

Francis chuckled and pressed his lips against Alfred’s. He was a shameless pervert, that much was certain, but that didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate more traditional displays of intimacy just as much. “I admit, my little kitten knows how to pick them! You’ll be a lovely addition to my pets.” Arthur may have been the favorite, but that didn’t mean he was the only one. There were three more sitting in the brig. He was certain that Alfred would get along with them just fine. Arthur, of course, would sleep with him, when the time came. Chained up, of course, but beside him nonetheless.

Alfred didn’t kiss back, simply lying still as the other pressed his lips to his own. He wished Francis would just shut up, tired of hearing the man’s voice. “P-Pets?” Alfred asked, wondering if this meant that Francis had more than one slave.

“Of course! What, is Arthur only keeping you?” said Francis, grinning lecherously. He licked Alfred’s lips, seeing as his tongue obviously wasn’t going to be permitted entry, and rubbed his dripping erection against Alfred’s hole. “Perhaps he isn’t as ambitious as I thought.” Of course, he allowed his whole crew access to his harem. He supposed it was different if Arthur was keeping Alfred to himself. In a single movement, he pulled the rod from Alfred’s cock. “I certainly hope you’re experienced. Still, if not, I suppose you’ll get plenty in time. How long ago did he catch you?”

Alfred screamed as the rod was suddenly yanked out, not expecting the sudden movement. He really had no idea how long it had been since Arthur had kidnapped him, days seemed to just run together for him. “I-I dunno,” he whimpered, wondering just how long it had been.

Francis sighed. Obviously it had been longer than a few days, but… “Less than a year?” It typically took him about one or two months to break someone, and another six before they were fully trained. Arthur had a bit more of a temper on him, and hadn’t adjusted well to his subservience. With the temper he’d acquired after being taken onboard, Francis wasn’t quite certain he’d have the patience for such things. It was best to assume that Alfred was completely untrained. “Well, either way, I’m going to start you from the beginning.”

“P-Probably,” Alfred muttered, shutting his eyes and turning his head to the side. What did Francis mean by the beginning? To re-train him all over again? “A-Arthur will come rescue me, just wait,” he snapped, a few fresh tears running down his face.

Still defiant. Or perhaps he was well-trained, and he was just loyal. After all, he had been wandering off on his own. It took a lot of trust to let a captive roam alone on shore. Either that, or a lot of fear. Francis reached into his pocket, and pulled out a knife, which he held to Alfred’s throat. “Poor thing. You’re not very good at holding your tongue when the situation calls for it, are you?”

Alfred gasped as he felt the cold blade against his neck, knowing that he really did need to learn when to shut up. “S-Sorry,” he whimpered, not daring to move. Francis really was a lot like Arthur and it made Alfred wonder if he would eventually turn out like the two of them.

“That was hardly an apology,” said Francis, underwhelmed. He slashed the blade across Alfred’s chest, leaving a light cut with minimal bleeding. “I expect you to grovel in the wake of your mistakes.” He had no doubt that Arthur would have accepted the apology. As cold-hearted as he was, his expectations weren’t nearly as high as they should have been.

Alfred screamed again as he was cut, blood seeping out of the shallow wound. "I-I'm sorry," he sobbed, scared that Francis really would kill him. After all the man made it clear he was just after Arthur, using him as bait.

Francis pressed the knife into Alfred’s shoulder; unlike the rapier, the blade in his hand had been sharpened less than a week ago, and it sank into his flesh with ease. “Beg for forgiveness.” His voice didn’t sound cruel, even though the words themselves were. He preferred to let his actions speak over his tone of voice. The bloodied blade was pulled out again, and threateningly hung over Alfred’s right eye.

Again a stinging pain went through Alfred's body as the blade left a shallow cut. He shut his eyes tightly as the knife was moved to his face. "P-Please forgive me, I'm sorry," he cried out, frightened the other would take his eye out.

Although Francis pulled the blade away from his eye, he moved it down to one of his nipples, and pressed it gently into the sensitive nub. It didn’t draw blood, but it could with just a little more pressure. “What do you intend to do to make it up to me, then?”

"Wh-Whatever you want," Alfred whimpered, voice quiet as the cool blade pressed into such a sensitive place. "I-I'll be good," at least until Arthur showed up.

“Whatever I want, hm?” mused Francis. Unbeknownst to him, it was Alfred’s second time making that mistake. “Why don’t you tell me how much you love me?” Also unbeknownst to him, Arthur had picked up a lot more from him than he’d thought.

Francis really was a lot like Arthur Alfred thought to himself, knowing there was no other choice. "I-I really love you, I'm glad you kidnapped me from Arthur," he said in a low voice, sniffling a bit.

“As you should be. Arthur is hardly a worthy owner,” said Francis, finally putting the knife away. “Now that that’s done and over with, I believe it’s time for a little loving, wouldn’t you agree, my lovely kitten-bait?” He reached behind Alfred to remove the handcuffs, set them and the key aside, and sat back expectantly. “Go on, put on a show for me. I want you to stretch yourself.”

It was like Arthur was a younger, angrier Francis Alfred swore, spreading his legs as he reached up to suck on a few fingers. Begging was pointless he knew, making sure his fingers were nice and slick before reaching down and shoving one inside himself.

Francis looked unimpressed. “Is that all?” Compared to all his other pets, Alfred went about things very mechanically, as though it were more a necessity than a show. “Push them in and out slowly, and spread them a little. Try to keep your hand in a position that gives me a better view.” It was like all Arthur did was hold him down and fuck him. He doubted that Alfred had ever even done a strip-tease before.

Alfred frowned at all those instructions, pushing a second finger inside. He lifted his legs a bit more, trying to give Francis a better view as he spread his two fingers apart, slowly beginning to thrust them.

“Better, but you still look bored,” said Francis; as far as he was concerned, he was merely providing constructive criticism, the likes of which Alfred had obviously never had before. “Try making some faces, as though you’re enjoying it even more than you are. Like this!” As an example, Francis opened his mouth in a sort of gasp, and rolled his eyes upwards. “You can try panting a little, too.”

Alfred would have laughed at Francis' demonstration if he weren't in his current situation. He pushed his fingers in more, forcing out a light moan. Knowing Francis it still wouldn't be good enough, the man probably saying it sounded too fake.

Francis looked at him with critical eyes, rather than aroused ones. “Well, it’s a worthy effort, at least. Keep at it for a little longer. Try to pretend that it’s someone else’s fingers, if it helps.” Alfred’s acting skills would definitely need some work. Then again, he was already further along in his training than Arthur and his permanent scowl had ever gotten.

Alfred kept his eyes shut, letting out more moans as he thrusted his fingers. He tried pretending they were Arthur's fingers but it didn't do much, he still overall felt nervous and scared, barely getting himself aroused.

At long last, Francis gave up. It was time to get to the main event. He could watch a good performer for several minutes more, but Alfred was still a bit below average in that department. There would always be time for practice later, though. “Okay, that’s good enough, I think! Now, I want you to ride me.” Surely he’d done that before, at least.

Alfred pulled his fingers out, sitting up as he heard that. He had never done it before except during the time Arthur had ordered his crew to take him.

Francis pushed Alfred out of the way so that it was him laying down, and motioned for his live bait to crawl on top of him. He took a moment to remove his shirt, fully exposing the hair and muscles of his chest. His cock stood erect, waiting for Alfred to have a seat.

Alfred chewed his lower lip nervously, moving up so that he was straddling Francis. Carefully he grasped the man’s cock with one hand as he lowered his ass down, penetrating himself, groaning in pain as he slowly sank all the way down.

Francis sighed. Alfred really wasn’t good at being sexy. He had the body, but he lacked the experience. “You look like you’re in pain! Look a little happier. Think to yourself, ‘I’m excited for this!’ ” In order to give Alfred some motivation, he reached down and grabbed his revolver, which he aimed right at the captive’s face. Unloaded, of course, seeing as he didn’t want to accidentally squeeze the trigger upon orgasm, but Alfred didn’t have to know that. “If you can’t express it on your face, then express it in words!”

Alfred gasped as the gun was pointed at him, bottom lip starting to tremble. He didn’t know what to say and knowing him whatever he would say wouldn’t be good enough for this pirate. “I-It feels good,” He whimpered, knowing it was nowhere near convincing.

Francis rolled his eyes. “Pitiful. Fine, then, go ahead and touch yourself. Just make better faces.” There was a reason he usually stayed away from ultra conservative areas like the one that Alfred had come from. That, and he liked to have a diverse harem; he already had a British pet. Sure, the colonies were a good distance away from the mainland, but it was still the same country, with people of the same race and language.

Alfred nodded, obediently reaching down to stroke his cock. He felt so unsure of what he should be doing, moving his hips up a bit, a loud groan escaping his throat. Part of him hoped that if he proved to be a bad enough pet that Francis would let him go, even if the likelihood of that was rather slim.

Of course, that would require Alfred to have some semblance of luck left, and fate was not in the mood to be so kind. “Well,” said Francis, “you’re rather bad at this, but I didn’t give up on Arthur, and I shan’t give up on you! So long as you don’t try to revolt like he did, of course. I’m not quite as attached to you. I’ll slit your throat if I have to.” He’d said the same thing to Arthur, of course, but he really meant it for Alfred.

Francis’s words weren’t very comforting to Alfred, holding in a sob as he moved a bit more, up and down on the man’s cock. He stroked his own as he moved, his own cock hardly erect.

“If you’re going to cry, you can turn around,” ordered Francis. At least that way he would see Alfred’s round bottom instead of his red eyes. He wasn’t in the mood, nor did he have the time to spend the entire night coaching the latest addition to his harem in the ways of sex. That could come after he’d been reunited with his favorite little runaway.

Alfred knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep himself from crying, nodding as he lifted himself off of Francis’s cock and turned himself around. Again he penetrated himself onto the other, letting his tears flow freely now.

“And keep quiet,” said Francis. He gave Alfred’s bottom a firm smack with the palm of his hand, leaned back, and finally began to relax. Even if the Puritan wasn’t good at the emotional side, at least he had a bit of a handle on the physical one.

Alfred bit his lip, not even yelling out as he was suddenly slapped. Arthur may have been cruel but Francis was just an asshole, it was no wonder that Arthur ended up like the way he was. Keeping his hand on his cock Alfred began to move again, up and down on the pirate's cock.

Francis, meanwhile, made no motions to thrust up and in, as he usually did. Rather, there was something that caught his eye. He traced the brand that marred Alfred’s flesh and pursed his lips. “This is going to have to go, somehow. Maybe if I cut it off.”

Alfred had almost forgotten about the brand, goosebumps rising on his flesh as it was barely touched. "N-No," he yelled out, thinking that a chunk of missing flesh seemed way worse than a brand.

Once more, Francis slapped him on the rear. “Don’t back-talk. If you complain, I’ll just do it without giving you any alcohol to numb the pain.” He couldn’t help but wonder if Arthur had done so when he’d branded Alfred. Knowing the shattered husk of a man he’d turned the once-innocent child into, probably not.

Alfred whimpered at that, shutting his eyes and just focusing on moving up and down on Francis's cock. He just wanted it to get over with already, his own cock only half hard as he lazily stroked it. He wondered how long it would be until he was rescued, knowing he'd soon go insane if he had to stay for very long.

Francis, tired of concentrating on such mundane things as how he was going to peel the skin off of that area of Alfred’s body, began to go back to concentrating on the pleasure, as difficult as it was with those letters staring him in the face. So, instead, he decided to imagine someone else. “Ah, Arthur, my little kitten…”

Alfred's eyes opened wide at that, about to correct the man before realizing that doing that would be incredibly stupid. He tried to concentrate as well, shutting his eyes again as he moved a bit faster now.

Francis peaked to thoughts of Arthur’s face, blushing heavily and contorted with unwanted pleasure, as it always had been in the past. The one in his imagination was a bit younger than the one he’d seen back on the dock, but that would change soon enough. His finger had ended up involuntarily squeezing the trigger of his gun after all; it was very lucky for Alfred that he’d decided not to keep it loaded.

Before Alfred could even register that Francis had came he had screamed out, hearing the gun click. It was only a second later that he opened his eyes and realized that it must not have been loaded, not smelling nor seeing anything. "A-Are you done now?"

Francis blinked, having almost forgotten that Alfred was there. “Hm? Oh, I suppose I should have someone take you down to the brig now. My apologies. Your presence was beneath my notice.” It was important to belittle them, and let them know just how worthless they were. At least, it was important to do that for all of them except the one. As romantic as he tried to be with Arthur, the bushy-browed traitor had never returned his affections. One day, though, he wouldn’t be able to resist.

Alfred lifted himself off of Francis's cock, rather glad to hear about going to the brig. Still, his words were so harsh it was hard not to snap back however his time spent with Arthur had taught him the importance of keeping his mouth shut.

Without warning, Francis pulled Alfred back down, and pressed his stubbly cheek against the Puritan’s. “You know, even though you look nothing alike, your demeanor reminds me a little of him. How has he been without me? Is he eating well? I certainly hope he didn’t offer you any of his cooking.”

Alfred yelped as he was suddenly yanked down, disgusted as how his face was touching the others. "He's fine on his own, probably would be doing better if he had never met you."

Rather than strike him, Francis nodded in agreement. “Probably. But then, that would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it? What sort of a life is that of a fisherman, anyway? He was of noble birth. One way or another, he would have gotten tired of it. I simply sped that process along.” And probably bent him further than he ever would have on his own, too, but that was beside the point. Piracy wasn’t about playing fair. “I’m surprised you’re so confident that he wouldn’t be such a terrible person without me. After all, he captured you, did he not? Don’t tell me you’ve actually started to grow fond of him.” It was surprisingly common with captives, in his experience. Maybe one day they would give the phenomenon a name.

"Of course not!" Alfred shouted, doubting his own words. He felt so conflicted about everything, he hated Arthur but hoped the man would save him and take him back at the same time. Still Alfred was convinced that it was Francis who made Arthur so terrible, a chill running up his spine at the thought. After all what if he turned out like Arthur?

“But you like him more than you like me, is that not true? Don’t bother to answer; after all, you can’t lie to yourself,” said Francis, smirking and finally allowing Alfred to stand. “If the answer is yes, then somewhere in your heart, you harbour some semblance of positive feelings for your former captor. Like a seed, it will only continue to grow. You can tear at the petals all you want, but the wheels have been set in motion.” He sighed, longingly, and didn’t seem to notice that he himself was still missing all of his clothes. “Not that I can’t see why. He’s quite the catch.”

Alfred really wished the other would shut up, arms crossed as e stood, a bit of cum dribbling down his legs. "It's like choosing whether one would rather be hung or burned at the stake, both are terrible but being hung sounds less painful." He still tried to resist any positive feelings for Arthur.

“That analogy was terrible,” said Francis flatly. “Leave the prose to the experts.” At last, he got to his feet, still naked as could be. Seeming to care little for decency, he swung the door to his quarters open and called out to one of the men. “Good afternoon, men! Whoever escorts our live bait to the brig will get an extra share of my darling Arthur’s gold!”

Like moths to a flame, they swarmed. Not one seemed surprised by Francis’ nudity.

Alfred shied away as Francis's crew came forward, scared that he was going to let them fuck him like Arthur had. It was too bad he never learnt French but such things weren't very useful for a farmer.

Luckily for Alfred, none of them seemed interested; the one who grabbed him was a large, muscular man who tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of flour, and began down the stairs to the brig without saying another word. The others got back to work, and it was clear that they had absolutely no interest in the new arrival. It was almost as though they’d seen such things so many times that they could no longer find it in them to care.

Alfred hadn't expected to be hoisted up like that, wishing he could at least have some clothes. At least he could sleep in the brig, it had been a long day and he felt exhausted. Hopefully Arthur would arrive soon, and not get himself captured.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry it took so long to update but here it is~

The woods were heavily forested, but the clearing they’d managed to find was open enough to give them all the space they needed to set up their bait. The surrounding woods were laden with traps, and even if they somehow managed to luck their way through it all, Francis’ crew had been quick to set up some makeshift fortifications in the form of some large crates weighed down with rocks. Arthur would see the choke point and think he had them trapped, when in actuality, it only made everything easier to defend; with the rocks piled above their heads, they would have to climb into the trees to stand a chance of hitting them before their position was given away.

Francis stared at Alfred with a pleased expression, admiring the handiwork of his crew. It probably wasn’t very comfortable to be tied naked to a tree with a metal rod jammed up your recum, but that wasn’t his problem. “I wonder how long it will be before Arthur arrives! Not too much more time, I’m sure. If I were concerned about his willingness to take on a challenge, I never would have bothered.”

Alfred’s chest was against the tree, the bark scratching him as he struggled. It did seem like a perfect plan which only scared Alfred even more, scared that Arthur would fail in rescuing him. Still, Arthur was cunning and smart, the man would surely find a way. “Is the rod really necessary?” he asked, glaring up at Francis.

“Not really,” admitted Francis, pushing Alfred’s bangs out of his face. “My, my, when was the last time you brushed your hair? So many knots! I’ll fix that for you.” He pulled a small comb, of all things, out of his pocket, and began sliding it through the captive’s hair. When he ran into a knot, he took his time carefully untangling it so as not to rip anything out.

Well, Alfred was sure nothing else could make the situation any more awkward. He was after all tied to a tree naked, rod in his ass with a pirate grooming his hair. “What are you doing?” Alfred asked, the tugging at his hair a bit painful.

“It’s very important for a boy of your age to take some pride in his appearance!” said Francis, as though the answer had been obvious, and Alfred was crazy for asking. He made a valiant effort to smooth down a few that insisted upon sticking straight up into the air, but no matter how much he tried, it refused to listen. “Even Arthur always wanted to have nice hair. I kept telling him that the style he has it in suits him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Seems he kept it, though, so perhaps he’s matured. It’s almost a shame. I rather enjoyed messing with him. Oh, my, that does look good, considering the circumstances!” he added proudly, stepping back to admire his handiwork. “A bit oily, though. Have you tried citrus?”

Alfred really didn’t care to hear about Arthur or his days with Francis, grunting as the man tugged at his hair. “No I haven’t,” He said, teeth clenched in anger. The other talked way too much, it was really getting on his nerves.

Francis gasped. Genuinely. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve gone your whole life unaware of the benefits of citrus! It really helps to break up the oil, and give it a wonderful shine! Why, how else do you think I could possibly keep mine so soft and glorious? Here, feel it!” He pressed his hair to Alfred’s face, seeing as both of his arms were bound.

Alfred cringed at that, turning his head to try and get away from the other. “I don’t care about your damn hair,” he snapped, wondering if the pirate was just insane or if all Frenchmen were like this.

“Such language! I thought you were a Puritan,” said Francis, though it was clear from his smile that he was only joking around. “Maybe later, then.” Suddenly, his demeanor turned serious, as the sound of rustling leaves could be heard. He drew his sword, and ducked behind one of their makeshift fortifications. “...Finally.”

Alfred was about to snap back again but he also heard some rustling, wondering if it was Arthur. Surely the pirate could find his way out of this mess even if it did seem impossible.

No shots were fired. A lone figure entered the compound with his arms raised over his head. Francis slowly peered out from behind his cover and raised an eyebrow as his men circled the seemingly-helpless man, all aiming their weapons at him.

“Francis,” said Arthur Kirkland, a smile on his face. “Francis Bonnefoy. It’s been a long time.”

“Oui,” agreed Francis, standing up straight. “It has.”

Alfred craned his head to try and watch what was going on. Was Arthur surrendering? It seemed so out of character for the man but here he was doing just that. Surely it's just a trick he thought to himself. "Arthur!" He called out, tears in his eyes. Arthur was here to save him, right?

Francis looked at Arthur critically, though his eyes betrayed his lust. “So, you’ve come to save your pet, have you?”

Arthur brought his arms down slowly, making no move for his gun. His posture became less threatening, and he angled his feet inward, with his hands clasped in front of his body. “I’ve looked everywhere for you, you know. From the moment I got away, I was plagued with doubt.” He batted his eyelashes, and moved his hand up across his face as though he were wiping a tear from his eye before it fell. “The only thing that gave me the strength to lead was knowing that you were somewhere out there! I dreamed that someday I might return to your side to face the punishment I so rightly deserve, Master Bonnefoy!”

Alfred was rather shocked. It had to be a lie right? After all Arthur hated Francis. Still, he kept his mouth shut, if it was a lie he had to let Arthur play along which also meant he had to play along too. "But Arthur, aren't you here to rescue me?" He asked, doing his best to look at the pirate.

Francis snorted, even as the men around him began to lower their guard. “Arthur, your pet here might be an idiot, but I’m no such fool. Do you honestly think I would fall for a ploy that I taught you myself?” He lifted up his gun and aimed it straight at Arthur, whose eyes began to narrow. “Now, why don’t you kneel down and give me a sincere apology, hm?”

The ruse abandoned, Arthur laughed out loud. “I suppose my acting hasn’t improved much. My skills, on the other hand…”

“...are meaningless. You’re surrounded,” said Francis, shaking his head as one would at the antics of a child. “Drop your weapons.”

Arthur let his gun fall to the ground, followed by his sword.

“All your weapons,” corrected Francis.

The British mainlander removed his coat and tossed it aside, where the knives lining the inside became visible.

“Frisk him.”

One of Francis’ men put away their weapon to step forward, and began patting down Arthur’s entire body. Arthur, in the meantime, merely maintained a bored-looking expression on his face, as though they were mundane proceedings.

Now Alfred was getting scared, wondering if this was still all part of Arthur's act. The pirate was smarter than he looked after all. Tears began to run down his face, hoping that somehow Arthur and him could escape. Perhaps Arthur would stage a mutiny, his own crew waiting to attack. That had to be it, it wasn't like Arthur to so easily give in.

“You’re making a mistake,” said Arthur, looking completely relaxed.

“A mistake?” spat one of Francis’ men with a cackle; he had a slightly heavier French accent than the captain. “You are completely surrounded!”

“Am I?” asked Arthur, starting to smile. “Or is it you who-”

“Captain Bonnefoy! We’ve captured the last of Kirkland’s men around the perimeter!” said one of the men. Sure enough, a long line of disarmed pirates were marched into the series of fortifications. Arthur’s confident face fell, replaced by a look of shock.

Francis took the opportunity to gloat. “Oh, Arthur… You should know by now not to put all of your men into a single, short-sighted plan. What would you call it over here? ‘Putting all your eggs in one basket?’ ”

Alfred was losing all hope as well, watching as Arthur's crew was caught. He turned his head back, forehead against the tree as he started to sob. He wanted to tell himself that it was all a trick, that Arthur knew what he was doing. He knew he couldn't give up hope yet, for all he knew Arthur really did know what he was doing.

“Damn you,” snarled Arthur, his face scarlet with rage. One of Francis’ men stepped forward to grab him from behind, but he yanked his arms away. “Don’t touch me!”

“What should we do with the captives, Captain?” asked one of the French pirates.

“We need no more sailors. However, we shall suffer them to live long enough to watch their beloved leader panting like a bitch in heat,” answered Francis.

“The nerve…” growled Arthur.

“Ah, so you do remember how to speak French!” said Francis, clapping his hands together. “Très bon! I’ll expect you to beg in my language, as well.”

“Go to Hell!”

Alfred was sobbing now, not understanding a thing that was going on. "Let us go dammit!" He shouted, turning to glare at Francis as he struggled against his bindings. Was it really all over? He was getting scared for his own life, after all Francis had made it quite clear that he was just being used as bait.

Francis ripped the rod in Alfred’s tight confines out of him, and tossed it aside. “Take the crates back to the ship. Keep the prisoners alive on deck. I want them all to see the main event. After we kill them, you may all use the Puritan boy to your heart’s content. Just keep your hands off of Arthur. He’s mine.”

“How dare you speak of me in such a way?” said Arthur, as another two men grabbed him from behind. “Face me like a man, you coward! I’ll run you through!”

“Such tenacity in the face of overwhelming odds,” said Francis longingly. He took Arthur’s head in his hands and pressed their lips together. In a move absolutely everyone could have seen coming, the Briton clamped his teeth down on his lower lip. Francis reeled back in pain, and Arthur spat in his face.

“Rot in a ditch.”

“Only if you rot with me, my little kitten!” said Francis, not sounding nearly as angry at Arthur as he had been with Alfred, even though his lip had suffered more damage; there was an unpleasant-looking gash, and it was bleeding heavily. It was obvious that Arthur hadn’t held back in the least.

Alfred screamed as the rod was yanked out, tightly shutting his eyes at the strange display. He was so sure by now that Francis would just kill him and that all of his suffering with Arthur up until now would have been all for nothing. "Wh-What's gonna happen to me?" He asked, looking over at Francis as he choked out a sob.

Francis looked him over. “You’re cute enough. You can stay,” he said decisively. “I did tell you about all the positions I have planned, did I not? Besides, even if I’ve already violated you, it doesn’t have quite the same impact until I do it in front of your former master.”

Arthur’s face darkened, a sinister look in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come; in its place, his face displayed a level of unease that looked similar to the time he’d come into the customs house pretending to be Alfred’s caretaker. “So is that your plan? To humiliate me, kill me, and keep him for yourself?”

The men began to march back to the ship, the prisoners from Arthur’s crew in front. Two Frenchmen cut Alfred free, and began heading in the same direction, their guns aimed at his back.

“Such a silly question. You should know by now that I would never kill you, Arthur,” cooed Francis, taking Arthur’s hand and giving it a kiss. “I’ll only make you wish you could die.”

While relieved to hear that he wouldn't be killed Alfred still felt uneasy. He hoped he would at least get some alone time with Arthur, he needed to know if this was all part of his plan or not. He stayed quiet as they all walked back to Francis's ship, knowing that anything he would say would make the situation worse.

Boarding Francis’ ship was much like boarding Arthur’s for the first time had been; there was no dock, nor was there any sort of a ramp, so once they finished rowing themselves out into the deep water on the tiny little ferry, they were forced to climb up to the deck. The moment they did, Alfred was tossed to the hardwood floor, and Arthur was quick to follow. Side by side, they sat together as prisoners in front of the combined crew of both Francis and the captive British mainlander.

Alfred grunted as he was tossed down, sitting on his knees and covering himself with his hands. He knew Francis was planning on humiliating them, fresh tears running down his cheeks. He didn't dare try to talk to Arthur either, not with Francis right in front of them.

Arthur, however, had no such reservations. “So the whole crew is going to watch, then? You lot haven’t changed a bit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I suppose you expect me to strip, as well?”

Francis cocked his gun. “I certainly hope your skills haven’t gotten rusty in the time you’ve been out of my care.” His men cackled, while Arthur’s men gritted their teeth.

“And what makes you think I’m going to listen to you?” demanded Arthur. “You’ve already told me you won’t kill me.”

“Oui, I won’t kill you,” said Francis, moving his arm to aim at Alfred. “I will, however, kill him.”

Arthur scoffed. “You’re working under the presumption that I care about his well-being. He means less to me than a dog.”

Alfred looked back and forth between the two men, Arthur's words stinging. "W-Wait, d-don't let him kill me," he sobbed, looking back at Arthur. The man had gone through the trouble of trying to get him back he wouldn't just let Francis kill him now, right?

Francis pouted. “Aww, but Arthur, he was just telling me earlier about how much he loves and adores you! Surely you feel some sort of attachment to him, if only as a belonging.”

“Not one bit,” said Arthur, getting to his feet. The pirates around them quickly held up their guns, on alert. “But this is a pointless argument. You’ll just starve us until we give in, even if I refuse, and I’m not in the mood. So fine, have your show. Alfred, get up.” He gave the boy a light kick.

Alfred nodded, wiping his face with his arm before he stood up, legs shaking a bit. "A-Are you really just gonna give in?" He asked, not even looking at Arthur's face. It was so hard to believe it was all a ruse by the other, everything was just going so well for Francis.

Arthur’s gaze was stone-cold. “There’s no point in a fish flopping about after they’ve been caught.”

“I am surprised, though,” said Francis, placing his free hand on his hip; at that range, he didn’t need the second for additional accuracy. “You used to have more fight in you.”

“I’ve grown up and moved on,” snapped Arthur irritably. Despite his unpleasant tone, and the death glare he was still shooting Francis, he began to remove his shirt, slowly and sensually. He lifted it up over his arms, then flicked it off to the side as though it were nothing.

Alfred glanced over at Arthur, watching the man undress. He felt so hopeless, still covering himself with his hands. "Wh-What are you gonna do to us?" He asked, the question directed at Francis.

Arthur finally broke his gaze away from Francis to turn to Alfred. “Do you really need to ask at this point?” He rolled his shoulders back as Francis looked on appreciatively, and began to pull down his trousers, as well as everything underneath. He removed them slowly, and it was apparent that he was in no rush.

Alfred was taken aback by Arthur's outburst, lower lip trembling as he looked away. "Sorry," he mumbled, feeling as if it was taking an eternity just to get to it. He hated the anticipation, hated knowing there was nothing he could do but wait.

At last, the two of them were both naked, plain as day. Just as Francis had said and expected, Arthur had a scowl on his face, looking very much like he wanted nothing more than to strangle every last person on board the ship. Though it wasn’t so much an act of defiance as it was a sarcastic gesture, he did a little twirl where he stood, only to face Francis again. “Enjoying the view? Now, I imagine it might make a lesser man feel inadequate, but surely the great Captain Bonnefoy is above such trivial emotions as jealousy.”

There was a not-so-hidden bulge in Francis’ own crotch, as well as a smug smirk on his face. “Very nice. Now, why don’t you give us all a show with him, then?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “As you wish, Master Bonnefoy,” he said coldly. Without hesitation, he pulled Alfred in close, and pressed their lips together.

Alfred definitely had not been expecting that, lips crashed against Arthur's and his body pressed up against the other's. It wouldn't have that bad if they were alone but he could just feel Francis's gaze on them, making him feel somewhat sick. He tried to kiss back, knowing there was no point in fighting back and opened his mouth, allowing the other to slip his tongue inside.

A hand began to slide down Alfred’s back; Arthur’s hand, as it turned out. Before his fingers could slide into his entrance, Francis issued a verbal command.

“Don’t stretch him. The two of you will be taken unprepared,” said Francis firmly. Not that it mattered too much for Alfred, who’d had a rod up his rectum just ten minutes prior, but Arthur would certainly suffer, especially seeing as he hadn’t had anything there for years.

Arthur broke his lips away from Alfred’s. Instead, he began to rub their cocks together, nibbling on the slightly taller man’s collarbone.

Alfred rested his head against Arthur’s shoulder, groaning out as his cock rubbed against the other’s. It was hard not to start sobbing as they did this, Alfred really feeling as if there was no hope for escape left.

Arthur bit into Alfred’s ear, still rubbing their bodies together. For a moment, he kept his teeth around the skin, as though debating whether or not to whisper something. Ultimately, though, he ended up just pulling his head back and reaching down to stroke the Puritan’s length.

“That should do!” said Francis, seeming eager. “Now, Alfred, get on your hands and knees.”

Alfred was blushing deeply, feeling everyone’s eyes on them. He pushed away from Arthur as he heard Francis talk, nodding silently as he sank down to his knees. “Like this?” he asked, getting on all fours and facing away from Francis.

“Perfect!” said Francis, even as Arthur looked about ready to pounce on somebody and strangle them. “Now, Arthur, you get on top of him.”

Arthur glowered at him. “You want me to sit on him?”

“No, I want you to lay on top of him so both of your bums are exposed,” explained Francis, his tone like that of a teacher giving a lecture. “I would have had you on the bottom, but, well, your little conquest here is a bit bigger.”

With all the fiery rage in Arthur’s eyes, it was a wonder the entire ship didn’t burst into flame. “I see.” He did as he was told despite his obvious distaste, and climbed on top of Alfred so his own soft cock was pressed up against his lower back.

Alfred grunted as the older man climbed on top of him, luckily strong enough to keep himself up. It was so humiliating, tears running down his cheeks as he choked out another sob. Hopefully Francis wouldn’t drag this out, but then again knowing him he would do his best to take as long as he could.

Francis was already on his knees with his cock out; without hesitation, he thrust it into Alfred’s hole, and began pounding into him without mercy. Arthur gritted his teeth from his position on top of Alfred as the act caused them to rock back and forth. The men around them whistled and jeered from the sidelines.

Alfred couldn’t help but scream at the dry penetration, the metal rod from before not doing anything to prepare him for now. “S-Stop!” he screamed, his face pressed against the wooden floor as he was thrust into.

Despite thrusting into Alfred, Francis’ hands were traveling along Arthur’s body. He dragged them up his sides, and pressed his fingers to his lips, inviting him to suck; instead, Arthur opted to open his mouth and bite into them, breaking the skin and causing Francis to cry out in pain.

“You haven’t changed at all!” said Francis, sounding equal parts relieved and disappointed; he shook his hand out as the others laughed, trying to ignore the pain. “Ah, I think you broke it!” Sure enough, it was bent out of place.

Arthur smirked, seeming satisfied with that, but Francis wasn’t about to take it lying down. He pulled out of Alfred, and pressed the head of his cock to Arthur’s hole. The British captain’s whole body seemed to grow very tense, and he squeezed both of the Puritan captive’s shoulders in preparation for what was to come.

“I hope you drown in semen,” spat Arthur in one last act of defiance before Francis tore into his tight, unstretched hole. Despite how tense he was, and though he was obviously in a lot of pain, he didn’t make any sounds beyond the occasional grunt.

While Alfred was relieved to not have Francis’s dick inside of him anymore just listening to Arthur’s grunts was painful enough. He was even feeling bad for the man, knowing it had been a long time since he had ever had anything in there.

“See, Alfred is behaving so nicely!” said Francis as he drove himself into Arthur’s dry hole. “And that’s why he’s going to get some lubrication.” As if on cue, one of his men dropped a bucket at his side; Francis dipped his fingers into what looked to be oil, and pushed them into Alfred without stopping the movement of his hips.

Alfred groaned at the penetration, his hips moving back against the man’s fingers. He still felt bad, knowing Arthur must be in a lot of pain without any oil. Francis really was more cruel than Arthur, something Alfred had thought would be impossible.

“See how he pushes back against my fingers?” said Francis, prompting Arthur to dig his nails into Alfred’s arm. “Ah-ah-ah! Don’t punish his obedience!” The French pirate slammed his hips forward in a particularly hard thrust, causing Arthur to yelp, despite his best efforts to the contrary.

“He’s not being obedient to you out of loyalty. He’s being obedient because you probably threatened to chop his cock off,” snapped Arthur, not appearing bothered by his own hypocrisy.

“Oh? And how did you motivate him?” asked Francis, raising an eyebrow. “Go on, Alfred, do share! There’s no need to fear. I won’t let Arthur hurt you.”

“H-He would threaten to kill my family,” Alfred sobbed, hoping Arthur wouldn’t get mad at him for obeying Francis. After all it wasn’t like he had much of a choice. Francis’s words did little to comfort him, even if Arthur couldn’t hurt him Francis still would.

“His family?” repeated Francis, feigning horror. “How low, Arthur! Using others to get what you want is the least honorable type of threat!”

It was clear that Arthur wanted to point out Francis’ hypocrisy, there, but such a thing proved impossible; the only thing keeping him from screaming out in pain as he was slowly split apart for the first time in years was the fact that he was keeping his mouth tightly shut.

At last, Francis pulled out of Arthur, and removed his fingers from Alfred. The latter finally slicked up with oil, he shoved his cock inside, giving Arthur a brief respite to shakily catch his breath. It went in easily, both from the previous stretching and the lubricant.

Alfred screamed out again, the pain not as bad as before but still there. He wanted to beg so badly but he knew how pointless it was, instead settling for sobbing into his arms as Francis fucked him. Hopefully it would be over with soon, although knowing that they were now captured, now both prisoners on Francis's ship only made him feel worse.

“What are you hoping to gain from this?” growled Arthur. “You know I’m not one of your regular whores. I’ll just stab you in the back the next time I get the chance.”

“I would expect no less from you,” said Francis, his voice breathy; it was clear that he was enjoying Alfred’s body, certainly a lot more than Alfred was enjoying his. “Come now, Alfred, haven’t you anything more to say? Who would you say is the better fuck? Me, or Arthur?”

"Arthur is," Alfred replied, wanting to make Francis angry. The man was way more annoying than Arthur, his words laced with cruelty. "Compared to him you're terrible," yet despite his words he could feel a bit of pleasure forming in his body, the oil helping the pain die down.

Arthur snickered smugly, though Francis seemed less pleased by the response. “And what makes you say that? Did he not brand you? Pierce your ear? Whip you to the point where the scars are still visible? What have I done that’s so terrible? You’ve merely grown attached to the familiar, dearest Alfred.”

He pulled out, and pressed himself into Arthur as punishment; it was a bit easier than the first time, since some of the oil he’d used on Alfred was still on his cock, but it certainly didn’t seem to do much to help the British captain, who bit into his lower lip and shuddered.

Alfred really wasn't sure how to answer. Yes Arthur had done all of those things but somehow Francis seemed worse than the man. "He just is!" He screamed, groaning in relief as Francis removed his cock. They definitely needed to escape somehow.

“Hm, Arthur, you must teach me whatever technique you used on him to make him so unwaveringly loyal,” said Francis mournfully, still viciously forcing Arthur’s innards to spread for him as the latter spent all his energy refusing to make a sound. “I wonder, what causes a man of God to fall for another of his sex? And a kidnapper, at that.” The other men laughed and chattered amongst themselves.

Those words echoed in Alfred's ears, regretting ever answering the pirate. "I said he was better than you and that's all," he snapped, sobbing as he hid his face in his arms. He couldn't stop himself from crying, anger and shame filling him.

Arthur exhaled, and gave Alfred’s shoulder a squeeze; not a hard, painful squeeze, but a firm one that was most likely intended to be comforting. Francis didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he didn’t care.

“I won’t question your logic further, because you’re obviously not very smart,” said Francis. He resumed fingering Alfred as he fucked Arthur, preferring the upper man’s tight hole.

Alfred felt the other squeeze his shoulder, sighing in relief. It felt oddly comforting, Alfred glad at least that Arthur wasn’t upset with him. He still hoped that somehow Arthur had an escape plan, after all it didn’t seem like the pirate to let himself get captured so easily.

“Come now, Arthur, aren’t you going to beg for more?” asked Francis, licking his lips.

“In your- NGH! - dreams!”

Francis’ fingers continued to probe Alfred’s heat, teasing his prostate with constant rubbing and prodding. Despite his attitude, he was quite sexually experienced, and finding the right spot didn’t even qualify as a challenge. He was hitting Arthur’s, too, though one would never know it from the way the British captain refused to open his mouth.

Alfred couldn’t help but let out moans each time Francis hit his prostate, hips rolling back against Francis’s fingers. His cock was hard, leaking precum as the man’s fingers thrust into him. Surely Francis was almost done, it felt like it was taking an eternity to finish.

At some point, thankfully for the both of them, Francis released his seed into Arthur’s confines. It was clear that the latter of the two was perfectly aware of what was happening, and his face seemed to change color with disgust; it looked very much like he was about to vomit.

“F-fucking frog…” groaned Arthur, burying his face in Alfred’s back, and clearly straining not to voice his pain.

Alfred felt a bit relieved to hear that Francis was done, feeling bad for Arthur as he felt the man bury his face against his body. “A-Are you done now?” he asked Francis, hoping to hear a yes for an answer.

“For now, I believe the festivities can conclude!” said Francis, practically beaming with happiness. He pulled out of Arthur, whose face just seemed to radiate murderous intent, and brushed himself off. “If someone would kindly escort these two to the brig?”

A pair of men grabbed the two of them and lifted them up off of the ground. Arthur, for all his obvious anger, didn’t fight back, opting to instead just hang their limply.

Alfred didn't fight back either, glad to finally just be getting away from Francis. He could also talk to Arthur alone while down in the brig. He had to know if the pirate had an escape plan. After all it wasn't like Arthur to just let himself get captured without a backup plan.

When they reached the cells, there were already a cluster of people there; some men, some women, but all of them were beautiful, and it was obvious what purpose they served on the ship. Apparently Francis hadn’t taken any risks giving them combat training after Arthur’s successful escape. It was clear from a glance at their sturdy muscles that they were still expected to work out at sea; they were just locked up close to land.

The two men dumped both Arthur and Alfred the empty cell beside that one; Francis’ whores made it a point to ignore them, though the British captain couldn’t for the life of him figure out why. Perhaps his very presence meant that they were being treated less than favorably. Or perhaps they didn’t appreciate the competition. More than once, Arthur had seen a member of Francis’ harem have their throat slit because the Frenchman had grown tired of them, and decided to replace them with someone else.

The men left them without another word. Despite what had happened, Arthur’s face broke out into a grin.

Alfred grunted as he was thrown in the cell, sitting up on his knees and looking over at Arthur, noticing the smile on his face. "Arthur?" He whispered, not wanting the others to hear him. "Why are you smiling?" Did this mean the man had an escape plan? It was the only logical conclusion. "Do you actually have an escape plan worked out?"

“You didn’t honestly think I’d be so stupid as to waltz right into Francis’ little encampment without a plan, did you?” asked Arthur, standing up. He grimaced as sperm dripped down his legs. “I should discipline you for disobeying me, but if you lick this vile substance off my thighs, I’ll consider Francis’ treatment of you punishment enough.” He reached up to his earlobe, and pulled out what had been assumed to be an ordinary earring. All the other weapons he’d brought with him had been but distractions from the one thing he really needed. “I was hoping he’d send us here directly and take his sweet time deciding on a ‘punishment’ for me, but I suppose it can’t be helped. You’re never to bring up what happened up on deck again, by the way.”

Alfred grimaced at the word lick. "I didn't mean to disobey you," he mumbled, gulping before leaning forward and running his tongue along Arthur's thigh. It tasted disgusting, Alfred shuddering as he lapped up the Frenchman's cum. "What's your plan?" Alfred asked between licks, watching as Arthur began to pick the lock.

“All you had to do was go back the way you came. There were people everywhere. The only explanation is that you came willingly,” said Arthur curtly, not really in the mood to discuss the situation right then, especially not as Francis’ other whores all began watching him with fascination as he took the earring. It had a back that was much longer than average, and he began to pick the lock with it.

"Sorry," Alfred muttered, lapping up the rest of Francis's cum off of Arthur's thighs. Still, Arthur couldn't be too mad if he came to save him right? He could have easily just found a new person after all.

“It’s quite alright. Even if you hadn’t gone and gotten yourself caught, I would have had to deal with him at some point or another,” sighed Arthur, finally managing to unlock the door. He put the earring back into the lobe. Just because he hated the man who’d pierced it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to take full advantage of what he had. “Now, do you think there’s any cloth around here? I have my modesty to protect, you know.”

Alfred looked around but saw nothing, shaking his head no. Part of him felt bad for the other people down there, wishing he could help them escape as well. "Thanks for coming," he said, wiping his mouth with his arm as he finally pulled away.

“I would be lying if I said the thought of that frog inside you is enough to make my stomach churn,” admitted Arthur, finally opting to head up the stairs; it wasn’t as though they hadn’t all seen him naked, anyway. Already, the sound of gunfire could be heard as all the men he hadn’t taken with him for the the fake ambush took the enemy by surprise, and those that had allowed themselves to be caught cut themselves free of their rope binds with the knives they’d kept hidden in their sleeves. “Francis can be brilliant at times, but he’s cripplingly short-sighted when it comes to his sex drive. That he actually fell for such a scheme is a testament to that. And to think, I came up with an entire back-up plan for when this one inevitably failed! Such a pity.”

Alfred followed the other, fear leaving him as he heard the gun shots. He was relieved that this was all a plan of Arthur's, running up the stairs behind the man. "How are we gonna get off the ship?” he asked, wondering if Arthur's crew had brought his ship around.

“Weren’t you paying attention? The men were too busy watching the show to so much as raise the anchor,” said Arthur, stopping at the top, just beneath the closed hatch leading to the main deck. “Any minute now, and we should get the signal…”

Someone knocked on the hatch. Once, twice, then three times. The gunfire had stopped.

Arthur opened it slowly, on the off-chance that something had gone wrong. Thankfully, though, everything had gone according to plan. His men had killed or subdued all of Francis’ men with fewer casualties on their end than he could count on one hand. The man standing outside dropped a folded set of clothes into Arthur’s arms, which he accepted with a nod; following that, a dress was handed to Alfred.

“What of Francis?” asked Arthur as he put on the clothes he’d been given.

“Captured alive, just as you wanted, sir. Does this mean…?”

Rolling his eyes, Arthur nodded. “Yes, you may go raid the treasury. Be sure to leave enough men up here that we don’t have to worry about escapees.”

“Aye, captain!”

Alfred frowned as he got the dress, sighing and slipping it over his head. "Are you gonna kill Francis?" He asked, chewing his bottom lip nervously. He felt so conflicted. On one hand he wanted Francis to be punished but on the other hand he felt bad for even thinking such things. Either way he just desperately wanted off of the ship.

“Believe it or not, the answer is no,” said Arthur, and it was clear from his tone and hardened expression that he had thought long and hard about the decision. “Living with the knowledge that I beat him twice and slipped away yet again is far worse for him than death.” Not that he was going to let Francis slip away without any physical retribution.

Alfred sighed in relief at that, still following closely behind Arthur. He could see now that most of Francis's crew had been caught or killed, feeling a bit sick at the sight of so much blood. "Can we get off this ship now?"

“Soon. There’s one last thing we have to take care of,” said Arthur, patting Alfred gently on the head. “Just bear with it a little longer.”

A pair of his own men dragged a bound, angry Francis up towards them.

“You!” said Francis, appearing both furious and awed. “You…”

“Hold him still, boys,” said Arthur. Without another word, he raised his leg, and slammed the boot he’d been given straight into Francis’ crotch, prompting the perverted captain to scream like a little girl. That wasn’t the extent of it, though. He repeated the action, grinning wickedly. And again. It was only after about ten kicks, and after the Frenchman started sobbing uncontrollably, that he finally motioned for his men to let him down.

Alfred cringed as he watched, almost finding the man's punishment to be too extreme. He looked away after a few kicks, unable to watch such a painful display. He just wanted to leave already, a few fresh tears forming in his eyes.

“Don’t cry for him,” said Arthur, taking Alfred’s hand in his. “Don’t forget about what he did to you. To me.” As one final act of contempt, he spat on Francis’ crumpled form, and turned around. “We’ll leave him what few men he has left. I have no need of them. Come along, darling. Let’s get back to the ship.”

Alfred nodded, holding Arthur's hand as the man led them away. "Did you mean what you told Francis earlier?" He asked, remembering the man's harsh words. "Or was that just a lie to fool Francis?"

“I told Francis a lot of things,” said Arthur; like a true gentleman, he assisted Alfred down the side of the ship, whether or not he needed the help, and held him steady as he entered the bobbing ferry to take them back to the Unicorn. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Alfred shakily climbed down, sitting down in the small boat. "That you didn't care about me. That was a lie right?" He asked, feeling a bit embarrassed asking such a thing. "After all you went through the trouble of saving me."

Arthur took a moment to grasp what he’d just been asked. As his men rowed them back to the ship, he turned to face Alfred, and took the teen’s hands in his. With a straight face, and a sincere-sounding voice, he gave his answer. “Of course it was a lie. I care deeply for your well-being. You’re my wife, after all.” It was a half-truth, of sorts. Of course he cared for Alfred’s well-being. He’d invested far too much time into training him to lose him to Francis.

Alfred nodded, wiping away a few tears with his hands. He assumed as much considering all the trouble Arthur went through to find him but he needed to hear it himself. "Thanks. I'm sorry for getting captured," if only he had run off when Francis approached him, then they wouldn't have been in that mess.

Arthur pulled him onto his lap, and wrapped his arms around Alfred’s body in a hug. “There, there. You’ve suffered enough, I think. We made a hefty sum today, and I got to kick Francis in the balls. Quite a successful day, as far as I’m concerned.” He didn’t even wince at the pain shooting up his spine as a result of sitting down after being penetrated for the first time in so long. “Just make sure to learn from this experience.”

Alfred leaned in against Arthur’s chest, nodding his head as the man talked. He was just happy to be off the ship and returning home to Arthur’s. “Can we still go out sometime? Maybe in the next place we dock in?” After all he hadn’t gotten his chance since he was kidnapped.

Arthur looked at him sternly. “Do you promise to stay in plain sight, and not to go off in private with strangers?” He was pretty sure that much should have been learned already, but he wasn’t taking any chances. “Speaking of which, what possessed you to follow him earlier?” He knew for a fact that Francis couldn’t have kidnapped him out in public, or carried an unconscious body through all those people without arousing suspicion.

“He uh, said he needed some urgent help and wouldn’t leave me alone even after I told him I was busy.” Looking back Alfred did feel rather stupid for even following Francis. After all he should have known from Arthur that it was best not to trust strangers.

The pirate couldn’t help himself; he laughed, and gave Alfred a light slap on the back. “Oh, God. You’re really too nice for your own good, sometimes. Did he at least tell you what the problem was, or did you just take his word for it?” His poor pet, so naive, and so ignorant about the workings of the world.

Alfred’s face reddened a bit at that, almost too embarrassed to answer. “H-He just said he needed help. He didn’t tell me,” He muttered, face pressed against Arthur’s chest to hide his humiliation. “He said it wouldn’t take that long.”

“Oh, Alfred,” sighed Arthur. Really, it was probably for the best that he didn’t have his freedom. His empty head would have gotten him killed one of those days. “I suppose it’s partially my fault. I’m your caretaker, and you’re my responsibility.” At last, the rowboat made it to their ship. “Just promise you’ll be careful next time.” He really didn’t want to go through anything like that again. Kicking Francis in the balls eased the anguish, but it didn’t completely negate the fact that he’d been violated for Alfred’s sake.

Alfred nodded, climbing up onto the ship as Arthur followed. “I will. I didn’t know he was dangerous,” he said, crossing his arms and shivering a bit in the cool air. He felt exhausted, not caring where he slept he just needed some rest.

“Everyone is dangerous, Alfred,” said Arthur, placing a hand on his shoulder. That was something he’d learned after many years of piracy. “The only difference is to what degree.” Even the tiniest child might be willing to pick up a kitchen knife if you slaughtered their parents in front of them.

Alfred leaned in against Arthur, nodding his head. “Can I get some sleep? I’m really tired.” He hoped that somehow Arthur would let him share his bed, although he didn’t give his hopes up. Even the brig would be fine. He just wanted some sleep.

“Of course. Just head back to my quarters,” said Arthur, pulling him down to give him a kiss on the forehead. “I have work to do, but I’ll join you later. Sleep well. Training resumes in the morn.”

“Thank you,” Alfred said, so relieved to hear that he could sleep in Arthur’s bed. He quickly took off for the room, shutting the door behind him and practically jumping into the bed. He rolled up in a few of the blankets, taking in Arthur’s scent as he quickly fell asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter~ 
> 
> Enjoy

Arthur was pleased by how Alfred’s training had been coming along on their way to the next port. His aim had been getting steadily better by the day, and while his swordsmanship still reeked of inexperience, he was a fast learner, and his reflexes were gradually becoming sharper. They weren’t in Spanish territory just yet, but they would be soon enough. When they finally fired on that lovely little treasure ship, he wanted him ready for anything. The Spaniards weren’t going to give up their gold without a fight

“Excellent work,” he said, ruffling Alfred’s hair and smiling at the hole-ridden piece of cloth hanging before them. “Keep it up, and you’ll be shooting like the best of them in no time at all.”

Alfred smiled at the compliment, rather proud of himself. "Thanks," he said, giving Arthur a grin. Shooting was rather fun although he doubted he could actually shoot a real person. "So are we going to be in port soon?" He asked, holding the gun down. After all the last time they were at port he never got to actually get off and go have fun. Hopefully this time would be different.

“Patience, lad, we’re almost there. I promise I’ll take you to a tavern for apple pie,” Arthur assured him, putting his own gun away. “Now put that back in the holster I gave you, and go put some men’s clothing on. You should bring the gun, too. It’s a good habit to get into, at least in areas that allow it.” The colonies were a bit more lax about such things than the mainland, being on a frontier, and all. Alfred had proven himself responsible enough to be allowed to keep one on him, as far as he was concerned.

Alfred nodded, glad to hear he could get in some men's clothes. He put his gun away, heading towards Arthur's quarters and finding a pair of clothes for him on the bed. He stripped out of his dress, putting the holster down as he got into his trousers and shirt. Grabbing the gun again he headed back out, rather excited about that pie.

“That was fast,” noted Arthur. He leaned out over the starboard side of the ship as the men steered into port. A rope was thrown down to tie the vessel to the dock, and the anchor was lowered into the sea. He spared a quick glance over the wood holding the Unicorn together; they’d grazed some sort of a rock or reef along the way, and repairs would have to be made that would last longer than a quick patchwork job. The men hauled the ramp over, and set it into place, only to return to their duties with the cargo. “Ladies first.”

Alfred frowned, heading down with Arthur following him. He really was looking forward to pie, getting rather tired of all the hardtack. "Oh man I hope they have good pie," he said, mouth already watering.

“All the things to be done on shore, and you’re excited about pie?” scoffed Arthur. Nonetheless, he chuckled and took the lead. “My first mate will handle customs. Our main reason for being here is to restock, as it is.” They needed to refill all the water barrels, and purchase more rum. 

There weren’t nearly as many cities past a certain point on the way down south, so the smell wasn’t quite as bad as it had been at some of their other stops. The buildings at the end of the dock were all rather modest, and in the distance he could spot nothing but miles of farmland. Still, the port town sported a decent-looking tavern, and a few shops to sell some of their contraband off to. He guided Alfred to the wooden door, and held it open for him as any gentleman would.

Alfred headed in, looking around. The tavern seemed a bit seedy looking but he figured he shouldn't complain, as long as he got his pie. "Well after weeks of hardtack pie sounds wonderful," he said, stomach growling at the thought.

The vast majority of the clientele were made up of burly sailors, their muscles built up from years of hauling. Arthur would be the first to admit he wasn’t much of a hauler; that was for the peons. Still, all things considered, he’d eaten in far worse places. “Surely you want to eat something a little more wholesome, first.” He loved seafood, but right then, he was certain he’d kill for a land-dwelling animal, like turkey or beef. “You’re from around these parts, so I suppose you wouldn’t understand how difficult it is for anyone but the rich to get good meat back in the mainland.”

"Well, some meat sounds nice. Corn or beef maybe," Alfred was also a bit tired of seafood. He was a little nervous in the tavern but having Arthur with him made him feel more safe from the men around them. Honestly he could just eat an entire pie for dinner, remembering the pies his mother used to make. "So, it's hard to find meat back where you're from?" He asked, trying to shake the thought of his family out of his head.

“Yes, most of the land where the game lives is owned by those with all of the wealth,” answered Arthur, striding over to a table with confident steps. “It’s not that meat is non-existent; it’s just very expensive. My family owned some land, once, but I believe I’ve already told you how that ended up.” He sat down, and motioned for Alfred to do the same. A woman in a rather risque dress coming up just below her knees came to greet them.

“Is there anything I can get for a couple of handsome young men like yourselves?” she asked, and Arthur could tell by her demeanor that it was likely she was offering more than just food.

“Alcohol. Meat. Some corn and milk for my friend here,” added Arthur at the end, prompting the woman to giggle.

Alfred wasn't understanding why the woman was giggling, not thinking that Arthur had said anything funny. "Thanks for getting us food," he said, smiling at Arthur as his stomach rumbled again. Corn sounded amazing, so did meat. It was too bad they couldn't have more on the ship.

The woman strolled off to get what they’d ordered; presumably, it was similar to what everyone else had asked for. Arthur reached into his pocket to pull out a few gold coins. The problem with traveling was that you couldn’t buy on credit. Luckily, Francis has amassed quite the haul of gold, and all the coin they’d made was almost worth what he’d gone through to get it.

“So, while we’re waiting, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself? It always feels like we don’t get a lot of time to sit down and talk,” said Arthur, leaning forward in his seat. “You know, I’m surprised how well you’ve taken to the sea. I don’t think I’ve seen you get sick even once.” He made sure to stay away from the topic of Alfred’s family.

"I don't know what to say that I haven't already said." Alfred shrugged. He was rather proud of his ability to avoid seasickness though, glad that it hadn't happened to him. "I did enjoy swimming, my brother and I would do it a lot." Again he tried not thinking about his family, not wanting to be depressed on such a nice day.

“There’s ample time to go swimming today. It’ll be good to rinse off all that sweat and grime,” said Arthur. Not good. Time to steer the topic back to happier matters. He wasn’t going to lose Alfred to depression and resentment when he’d finally started reeling him in. Ever since the incident with Francis, he’d been much more grateful for what Arthur provided. “So, how are you liking your lessons so far? I have to say, you’re doing a marvelous job. I expect you’ll be as good as any of my men by the end of the month.”

"I like them," Alfred said, glad Arthur had changed the subject. "It's fun to practice," plus all the compliments made him feel a bit better. He was getting used to life on the ship, although part of him still missed his home.

“Good lad. Knowing how to handle yourself will come in handy sooner or later. I’ve lost too many men to lousy warriors they could have beaten had they bothered to practice,” said Arthur, a bit bitterly.

The woman set two drinks on the table; the rum went to Arthur, and the milk to Alfred. A few of the sailors around them turned their noses at the white substance and chuckled to themselves about ‘milk-drinkers.’ Arthur was used to ignoring such people, but he wanted to know how his pet would react. His men hadn’t harassed his pet in quite a long time, his period of what essentially amounted to hazing over and done with. Though they didn’t quite regard him as a full member of the crew, they didn’t try raping him with a broom handle anymore.

Alfred frowned at the laughter, cheeks heating up a bit. "Why are they laughing at us?" He asked, already assuming it was because of the milk. He still hated being teased and mocked, trying to ignore everyone else. He picked up the glass and took a sip, sighing in relief at the taste. Laughed at or not he had missed the taste of milk.

“Because they’re immature and have nothing better to do with their lives,” answered Arthur, taking a sip of rum, and smiling with relief. It wasn’t top-of-the-line, but after a full week with nothing but Francis’ stupid wine, it was just perfect.

Not all were in agreement with his words, however. “Excuse me?” said one of the sailors nearby, getting to his feet and looking rather angered. “You want to say that to my face, mainlander?”

Arthur sighed. So much for ignoring the problem. He had his pride, sure, but there was nothing to be gained from such a pointless spat. “Just forget I said anything.”

A few of them laughed, taking it as him backing down, but the one standing beside them wasn’t quite so easily pacified. “You listen to me! I asked you what you said!”

Alfred sighed as he heard the man speak, really not wanting a fight. "Just leave us alone," he said, turning to glare at the man. He didn't care if he made the stranger angry he was not letting his pie time be ruined. Hopefully the man would just leave, he really didn't want any fights.

Arthur almost winced sympathetically. Alfred had gotten better at fighting, but he hadn’t even thought to talk to him about defusing situations without coming to blows. An irritated-sounding ‘leave me alone’ wasn’t one of the best things to say. He would know; he’d learned the hard way, himself.

“Oh, the milk-drinker is going to tell me what to do now, is that it?” demanded the man. He was right up in Alfred’s face, his breath reeking of alcohol. “Make me.”

Alfred cringed at the man's breath, turning his head to the side. "Look we're just here to eat in peace okay?" he said, knowing that he had already made the situation worse. He really needed to learn how to shut his big mouth. "We're not wanting any trouble."

A part of Arthur wanted to come to Alfred’s aid, but the rest of him wanted to see how he handled the situation. He decided to stay quiet as the man continued on.

“Turning away? Something wrong, milk-drinker? All quiet and demure, all of a sudden? Have you any testicles under those trousers, or are you a woman in disguise?” He reached forward to grab mockingly at Alfred’s chest. “You think you can take me on? Come on, then! That is, if you’re man enough!”

"I said I don't want to fight," Alfred snapped, pushing the man's hand away from his shirt. Why wasn't Arthur doing anything? He could really use some help, especially since there was no way he could even think about fighting someone much stronger than him.

Arthur looked the man over, and analyzed his build and demeanor. He was muscular, more so than either of them, but he was also drunk, or at least tipsy. Furthermore, his uniform was old and weathered, but it lacked any sort of bloodstain or tears in places that would indicate it had been used in a fight. There wasn’t any scarring around the visible areas of his body, and he didn’t carry any sort of a weapon on him, meaning he was either low-ranking, or worked on a vessel that traded in low-demand items on safe trade routes. It was all built from labor, not from fighting, that much was certain.

“A real man knows how to handle a sword, wouldn’t you agree?” asked Arthur, unsheathing his rapier. He set it on the table for Alfred. “Go on, then. Prove yourself.”

"Wait I said I don't want to fight," Alfred said, eyeing the sword. He wasn't as skilled with one as he was with a gun after all. Plus the other looked rather big and muscular, like he could easily beat Alfred in a fight. "Arthur I just want to enjoy our food without any problems." Plus he was worried that fighting would get them kicked out.

“Yes, and you’re not going to be able to enjoy anything without fighting for it,” said Arthur. Already, the muscular sailor had procured a sword of his own from one of the other men in the bar, most of whom looked on eagerly for what they were convinced would be a smackdown. “Trust in what I’ve taught you.” He turned to the other man. The other patrons began pulling tables out of the way to give them some space, and the owners looked on warily. “First to draw blood wins.”

Alfred knew there was no getting out of this, standing up and picking up the sword. “Fine, I’ll fight him,” he said, trying to hide his nervousness as he got ready. He really wasn’t confident in his skills, doing better with the gun than the sword.

The moment Alfred got to his feet, the drunk sailor lunged at him, his sword outstretched. There was no rhyme or reason to his steps, beyond ‘forward.’ He swung the sword widely, as though it were a broadsword, rather than a rapier. Arthur rolled his eyes, his gun at the ready in case things went too far; he was poised to shoot on the off-chance the man went for a killing blow.

Alfred was able to easily avoid the man’s swings, noticing his movements were rather clumsy. Taking his chance he swung at the other man, barely missing. “You seem a bit clunky,” he smiled, getting rather cocky.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Five seconds ago, Alfred had looked frightened, but one successful parry and he was doing fine. The sailor didn’t take too kindly to his words, of course, especially when the people who seemed to be his fellow workers started laughing at him. He let out an inhuman roar and swung his arm downwards.

Alfred barely managed to dodge that one, immediately swinging back and managing to to slice across the man’s right arm. He grinned as he saw blood, knowing he had won then. “Now will you just leave me alone?”

“RAAAAAAARGH!” screamed the drunken sailor, clearly as infuriated as he was inebriated. He began swinging wildly, though none actually even came close to hitting Alfred. Frustrated, he ran forward, clearly attempting to run the blade right through the young blonde’s gut.

A scream escaped from Alfred as he jumped back, backing himself up against a wall. “Hey stop, I’ve already won!” he screamed, glancing over at Arthur for help.

Sure enough, Arthur jumped up, grabbed the weapon from Alfred’s hand, and began parrying the man’s furious swings without so much as breaking a sweat. His face remained tranquil, and his posture relaxed; for the next minute or so, he did nothing but block until the drunken man tired himself out, and his fellow sailors managed to grab him from behind and get the weapon out of his hands. Sheepishly, they escorted him off the premises. The stunned crowd began to cheer.

Alfred watched as Arthur fought the man off, watching with awe at how Arthur was able to block all of the man’s swings. He was glad that was over though, his stomach growling again at the thought of food. “Can we eat now?”

“After all that, your first thought is food?” asked Arthur, shaking his head with exasperation. “Get back to the table.” Already, things in the tavern were returning to normal, as though nothing ever happened. The pirate captain had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t the first time a random fight had broken out, especially seeing as the owner had seemed more intrigued than alarmed.

The waitress came to their table immediately after they were seated again, a wooden board in hand with all sorts of food items atop it, including things Arthur was pretty sure he hadn’t ordered; beyond the corn and a wide selection of choice cuts, there were several different varieties of fruits and vegetables. Arthur was about to protest when she spoke up:

“It’s all on the house, especially for a pair of strapping young men like yourselves,” said the woman, winking at them both.

“Wow look at all the food,” Alfred said, reaching down and taking a bite of the corn. “I wonder why she gave it to us for free?” he asked, mouth full of food. Either way he wasn’t going to complain. “This all looks so good doesn’t it Arthur? Especially after all the hardtack we’ve been eating.”

“I almost forgot how ignorant you are,” mused Arthur once the woman was out of earshot. “Isn’t it obvious? She’s trying to get one or both of us to sleep with her.” He rolled his eyes and took a bite out of what appeared to be fresh turkey; it had been far too long since he’d eaten actual meat, and though he didn’t voice it, he was in agreement with Alfred about how good the food looked.

Alfred blushed a bit at that, almost choking on his food. “R-Really?” he asked, glancing over at the woman. She was dressed a bit provocatively. “W-We don’t have to do we?” He just wanted to eat his food.

“Hm, I thought you’d be more excited,” mused Arthur teasingly. “I can’t say I’m surprised, though. Naturally, you would want to stay faithful to your spouse.” He made sure to word it in such a way that anyone listening in would think that Alfred was in a pure, wholesome relationship, young though he was.

“No, it’s just weird,” Alfred pouted, puffing his cheeks out as he stuffed his mouth with more food. Why did everyone seem obsessed with sex? It made absolutely no sense to him.

Arthur made sure to sample all of the meat. It wasn’t that he had some sort of obsession; he just wanted to get a taste of all the shore had to offer before setting sail again. Once his men were done unloading contraband and exchanging it for what little money the colonies had to offer, they would probably spend the rest of the night in the tavern, drinking their troubles away.

“I see you’re enjoying yourself,” mused Arthur, watching Alfred stuff his face with morbid fascination. “Pig.”

Alfred was taken aback by the insult, swallowing what was in his mouth and setting his fork down. “I-I’m not a pig,” he insisted, feeling a bit hurt by that comment. He suddenly felt a bit self conscious of himself now, instead taking a drink of his milk.

“So sensitive. I’m only teasing,” said Arthur, laughing. He wanted to call him ‘darling,’ or ‘love,’ but he couldn’t risk people growing suspicious about the true nature of their relationship. He wasn’t about to end his life burned over a faggot for homosexual tendencies.

Alfred pouted again, taking another bite this time of the meat. Arthur didn’t need to say such mean things to him. He’d always been teased by his brother for being a bit fatter he didn’t need the pirate doing it as well.

“Oh, don’t make that face,” said Arthur like a parent might scold their child. “You’re a big boy now, and you can take a little joke with dignity.” He would never quite get used to just how childish Alfred was. “I mean, you’re, what, eighteen?” It suddenly occurred to him that he didn’t know his pet’s actual age. He could make an approximation, but he couldn’t pin it down for certain.

"I'm sixteen," Alfred said, realizing too that he had never told the other his age. Still Arthur's joking felt more cruel than playful. He brushed it off though, stabbing a piece of meat with is fork and shoving it in his mouth. He wouldn't let an insult ruin his meal.

“Hm, you’re younger than I thought,” remarked Arthur, careful not to mention Alfred’s parents on the off-chance he had to come up with another story to foil his escape attempts. He wasn’t terribly concerned, though; he hadn’t attempted to get away since he’d encountered Francis. “All the same, you’re too old to pout.”

"Fine fine," Alfred muttered, mouth full of meat as he spoke. He didn't need to be lectured by the other especially after just being called a pig. "Either way this food is pretty good," he said, trying to change the subject.

Arthur was still mulling over Alfred’s age with disbelief; he could have sworn that he was eighteen, at the youngest. Then again, when it came to a difference of two years, it could get hard to tell. It wasn’t that he was guilty, or anything. He would have kidnapped Alfred regardless of his age. It was just a bit surprising. 

“Oh, yes, it is,” agreed Arthur when he realized he’d been silent for an extensive period of time.

Alfred was too distracted by the food to notice Arthur’s silence, now shoving more corn in his mouth. “Do we still get pie afterwards? I hope it doesn’t cost too much,” He’d feel a little bad if he made Arthur spend a lot of their money but he had really been looking forward to that pie all day.

“Considering this was all free, of course we’re getting pie,” said Arthur, chuckling a bit. It was beginning to make a bit more sense why Alfred was so childish. He was still at that age where most normal people were finally taking on adult responsibilities. He’d probably been helping out on the farm his whole life, of course, but fifteen to sixteen was when a boy became a man.

Oh that was right, the barmaid had given them the free food. “Yeah but I feel bad taking it for free,” Not that he wanted to have sex with her, but it did seem unfair. “Should we pay her at least?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You’re too soft-hearted. Fine, if it means that much to you, I’ll leave a little extra when we leave. But I’m not paying full price.” It wasn’t as though he’d specifically ordered all of the extras. He would give her the money for what he’d asked for, and that was it. His men would laugh at him if they knew he was paying for something he’d gotten for free just because his precious whore felt bad. “You will tell no one.”

Well that did make sense, after all she had given them the food without even checking with them first. “Okay,” Alfred said, satisfied with that. “So what should we do after we eat?” he asked, not wanting to go back to the ship anytime soon.

“Well, I was thinking we could do something fun together that we can’t do on the ship,” said Arthur, drumming his fingers on the table. “Do you know how to ride? I believe there are some horses for rent not too far from here.” Not everyone could afford their own horse, after all, even if they had to travel. “It shouldn’t be terribly expensive as long as it’s only for the day.” It wasn’t like they were hurting for money even if it was. Francis’ loot really had been quite the haul.

Alfred smiled as he heard that. "Yeah, I used to ride," he said, trying to ignore the part where it was always with his brother that he did ride. "It's been awhile but I still remember how," it would be fun he figured, better than being cooped up on Arthur's ship.

“Good. I could use a good ride. Strengthens the legs,” said Arthur, finishing up the last of the meat, and moving on to some of the fresh vegetables they’d been given ‘on the house.’ Frequent horseback riders had sturdy legs. And occasionally scrotum injuries, but he preferred not to think about that.

Alfred was just excited to be riding a horse again, stabbing a few vegetables and eating them. Not his favorite food but if it meant pie later he could eat them. "Sounds great," he said, giving Arthur a smile.

At last, the vegetables were gone - Arthur, for all his terrible ways, did not believe in wastefulness - and the waitress returned to take the wooden board away.

“Anything else, boys?” she asked, rolling her hips suggestively, her bosom uncomfortably close to Alfred’s cheek.

“Apple pie,” said Arthur flatly, not at all appreciative of his property being messed with.

Alfred was visibly blushing at that, unable to take his eyes off of the woman's chest. It was just so in his face and he had never seen any before it was starting to make him a bit curious.

“Apple pie it is!” said the woman huskily, once she had Alfred interested. Arthur was quick to put a stop to it.

“He’s married!” he snapped. “Isn’t that right, Alfred?”

The other sailors snickered, most of whom were probably shirking their duty of faithfulness to their own wives back home.

"R-Right..." Alfred said, giving Arthur an awkward smile at that. It would be nice to at least be with a woman once. He was a man after all. He shook the thought from his mind, remembering that pie was coming soon. "So uh, I'm excited to go riding later.”

“As you should be,” said Arthur, still sounding somewhat annoyed by the whole thing. He would have to make sure that Alfred was put back into his place soon; he couldn’t give the boy a single, solitary centimeter without him taking a whole kilometer.

Alfred could tell Arthur was somewhat irritated, deciding to try and forget the subject instead of argue. "Um, how long do you think we'll ride?" Anything to break the awkward silence.

Arthur jammed his fork into the generously-sliced piece of pie he’d been served, and popped it into his mouth. Its sweet taste didn’t do much to counteract the bitter look on his face. He took his time chewing and swallowing, wanting Alfred to know just how cross he was, and that it wasn’t something he wanted to see again. “...At least an hour. Maybe more. It depends on the prices.”

Alfred seriously had no idea why Arthur seemed so upset. It wasn’t his fault the woman had been flirting with him. “I hope we can go for more, but even an hour will still be fun,” he said, shoving a piece of pie in his mouth as well. It tasted nice and sweet, helping him forget Arthur’s anger for a moment.

Gradually, Arthur’s irritation began to fade away as he watched Alfred eat. Having spent the first several years of his life in a wealthy family, he’d always been taught to eat slowly, but the lower-class folk never seemed to have the same eye for manners. Even when he’d lost all semblance of his former status, he’d always maintained some of the gentlemanly habits that had been ingrained into him since his birth.

“It all depends. I’m going to need you to let me make the arrangements, though. No offense, but you’re too soft-hearted to haggle,” he mused.

Alfred smiled at that, taking the small jab as a joke. “That’s fine. I figured you would anyways,” As long as they got to go riding he was fine. He shoved more pie in his mouth, chewing it slowly as he savored the flavor. “The pie is really good isn’t it?”

“Definitely,” agreed Arthur, feeling like he was at a bit of a loss for how to proceed. It had been ages since he’d last tried to make small talk with someone. Most of his conversations with Alfred thus far had been orders, suggestions, or advice during his training. He couldn’t exactly bring up his family, and it wasn’t as though they had any mutual friends to talk about. “So, umm, what sorts of things do you like doing in your free time?”

“I usually would go see the animals on the farm. I really like animals. I’d go swimming too or read,” Alfred replied, eating more pie. He had led a rather boring life until he met Arthur. “I liked history. It was always interesting.”

Arthur took another bite of the pie, looking thoughtful. “I used to have a dog,” he said, resting his head on his hands. “I named him Peter.” The same name as that so-called child of his. He still refused to believe that lying whore. He’d pulled out, after all! “They shot him when they came to repossess all our belongings, though.” He said it so casually, as though it didn’t even bother him. It had, at first, but he’d gotten over it quickly enough. There was little time to mourn between all the filthy jobs he’d been given.

Alfred thought that story sounded rather sad, the mood going down again. “I’m sorry,” He mumbled, stuffing his face with more pie. “We had a few dogs too, and some cats,” they were good for catching mice after all.

“No reason to be sorry. It isn’t your fault. He’d be dead by now, anyway,” said Arthur with a shrug. He decided to address that last bit, in order to cheer Alfred up; it seemed bizarre to him that his ‘wife’ appeared more torn up about it than he was. “History, hm? I’m not terribly interested in history, though I had to learn it, regardless. The story of humanity is just one great war after another. Winners, and losers. This very land was stolen from savages.” Well, so much for cheering anybody up. He wasn’t very good at ‘happy,’ it seemed.

“Yeah that is true,” Alfred said, even remembering how he had read how the British had taken the land from the native savages. Arthur sure knew how to turn the mood more sour by the minute. Still he knew the pirate wasn’t doing it on purpose. “So your dog’s name was Peter?”

“Yes, he was a pointer. My father intended for me to train him for use during hunts,” answered Arthur, deciding to just let Alfred guide the conversation. He wasn’t very bright, but he was certainly more optimistic. “I did my best, but he was as lazy as could be. It was a struggle to get him out the door.” When they lost all their money, nobody wanted the dog, and there was no way Arthur could take him with him where he was being sent, so the adults in his life had decided to eliminate the problem.

Alfred frowned as he listened, feeling bad for the pirate. He was almost finished with his slice of pie now, wondering if it would be bad to ask for more. He’d wait to see what Arthur did, not wanting to appear like a glutton in front of the man, even if he’d already given off the impression earlier.

Arthur didn’t have to be asked; he was full, himself, and he could see the disappointed look on Alfred’s face as he realized the pie was almost gone. Without another word, he pushed his own towards his captive. “Do you want this? I’m not hungry.”

“Are you sure?” Alfred asked, taking the plate before even hearing an answer. He’d never turn down free pie. He dug his fork into the slice, eating up what Arthur left behind.

“If I wasn’t sure, I wouldn’t have given it to you,” answered Arthur, deciding not to point out that if Alfred was really so concerned, he could have waited for an answer before he began to dig in.

Alfred smiled, finishing up Arthur’s half-eaten slice of pie as well. “That was really good,” he said, wanting to thank the barmaid but a bit scared to do so in case he made Arthur mad again.

“It was indeed,” agreed Arthur, his eyes narrowing slightly as the waitress returned to take everything back. Despite his reluctance, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gold nugget and pressed it into her hand.

“Oh, my!” she said, appearing surprised. “Is this real?”

“You can bite it, if you must,” answered Arthur. “Only the real thing is soft enough for that to leave a mark.”

A look of sorrow came over her face, and she bit the nugget to test it out. “Funny, that’s just what my husband was going on about just before he left for California. Dropped everything from his house to his wife on the off-chance he’d strike it rich out there panning for gold.” She snorted. “I hope he chokes on it, the bastard. Thanks, honey. You’re too sweet.” She blew a kiss in Arthur’s direction and strolled off.

Arthur pursed his lips. He’d heard of the gold rush going on over there. Heck, he’d raided some of the ships coming over from all over the world, only to find that they were just poor peasants spending the last of their money on a pipe dream. Last he’d heard, most of the people who’d come over had been stranded, the mines having been sucked dry. A smirk crossed his face. That was what they got for not having some sort of a back-up plan.

Alfred listened to their conversation, feeling bad for the poor barmaid. He had heard a bit about the gold rush, being told by his parents that it was for sinners who were full of greed. “So, should we go riding now?” He asked, looking over at Arthur. He was really excited to be able to get on a horse again, especially after being on a ship for so long.

“Now’s as good a time as any,” agreed Arthur, rising out of his seat. He stretched, and made sure the sword he’d taken back from Alfred was properly secured in its sheath. After that, he checked to make sure nobody had tried to pick his pockets while he’d been focused on other things. “Come on, then.”

Alfred stood up as well, stomach feeling rather full. Riding would be a bit difficult with so much food in him but he knew he couldn’t complain. After all he did pig out a bit earlier. “I hope it’s not too expensive, I’d love to be able to ride for quite awhile.”

“I’m sure he’ll accept what we have,” Arthur assured him, strolling out of the tavern. It had been a long time since he’d eaten food that good. Usually he just stuck to the harbor. It had been at least two years since the last time he’d been in that particular port, so he hoped that the stable was still there. “It’s not far from here, so we shouldn’t have to walk long.”

Alfred nodded, following Arthur along out of the tavern. The day really did seem to be going well, even Arthur was now in a better mood than he was before. It really was a shame that he would have to go back to the ship after this though, he much preferred dry land.

It didn’t take long for them to reach the stable.

“Two horses,” said Arthur, holding out a handful of gold; he didn’t expect to actually spend it all, but he suspected the man would want a deposit to make sure they came back. He figured what he had was more than adequate. “Just for today.” He made sure to count the nuggets he was giving the man, just to make sure he didn’t give back less than was owed later on.

“Sorry, only got one left,” said the owner, eyeing the gold almost hungrily. “He’s a sturdy sort, though, if you both need to ride. I’ll even let you borrow the cart…”

“It’s for pleasure, not business,” said Arthur, retracting his hand and looking at Alfred. “Well, what do you think?”

“One horse is fine,” Alfred said, not wanting to give up what he had been looking forward to. As much as he wanted to ride on his own horse sharing one wouldn’t be so bad. It was mainly just riding out in the fresh air that he had been looking forward to.

“Very well. One horse it is,” said Arthur, giving the man the gold; a relieved look came over his bearded face as he took the payment. “I hope that’s a good enough deposit for you.”

“What? Oh, yes, deposit, right,” said the man, his eyes turning downcast. “He’s the only stallion left. Tack’s on the wall. Have a good ride.”

Alfred was rather giddy with excitement, following Arthur back to the stable. “Oh man I’m so excited I haven’t been riding in forever,” he said, wondering what kind of horse it would be. “I hope it is strong enough to hold both of us though,”

The horse, as it turned out, was fairly big, and Arthur had little doubt that it could hold the both of them without a problem. He couldn’t recognize the breed, but whatever it was, it wasn’t built for casual riding so much as it was built for pulling carts and plows. Its hooves alone seemed capable of crushing his head beneath them.

“Not bad,” he mused, grabbing some of the tack off of the wall and tossing it over to Alfred. “Come on, let’s get him ready. I’ll do the saddle, you adjust the reins.”

Alfred did as he was told with ease. “He looks more like the type or horse to carry carts,” he mused, not really minding all that much. As long as it was tame and could hold the both of them he was fine. “Do you wanna ride up front or should I?”

“I’ll ride up front, thank you very much,” said Arthur firmly. If Alfred behaved, though… “I might let you have a turn if you behave, though.” He tightened up the saddle; he’d fallen over one too many times. Once you came close to breaking your neck, you never made that mistake again. Or at the very least, you tried to take every possible precaution against it.

Alfred didn’t mind riding in back, he had assumed Arthur would make him anyways. Once Arthur had gotten up he hoisted himself up on the horse as well, hands wrapping around Arthur’s stomach.

Arthur squeezed his legs, holding the riding crop along with the reins; it was difficult for him to forget something he’d spent his whole childhood doing, out of practice though he was. He gave its side a light jab, automatically ducking under the piece of wood overhead that marked the stall; some people just led the horse out, but that would have been far less fun.

Alfred ducked as well, smiling as the horse led them out. It felt a bit strange to be so close to Arthur like this, his arms wrapped around the man’s torso as he leaned in close. “So where are you taking us?”

A few people stared briefly at the position as they exited the stable, but didn’t pay it too much heed, perhaps assuming that Alfred was still learning to ride. “There’s a flower field not too far from here, if I remember correctly.” It was somewhat surprising, since most of the area was farmland, but the word was that it had been the property of a man who exhausted the area with tobacco. For those without the money to rotate anything, it would be worthless for the next few years. “We’ll be able to take him for a real ride there.”

Arthur gave the horse another kick, and it sped up, going into a trot, which was by far his least-favorite pace. The constant bouncing wasn’t really worth the slight boost in speed; an actual gallop was far smoother. For that reason, he made sure to give the animal another kick as soon as things ahead of them were clear. In that instant, the beast took off.

Alfred held on as the horse trotted off. It had been awhile since he had been riding and even longer since he had ridden with someone else on the same horse. His body was close to Arthur’s, the galloping of the horse only helping to press his body more against the pirate’s. It felt oddly good, his body pressed against the other’s as the cool wind blew through his hair. The stimulation from the horse’s movements as well as being so close to Arthur was starting to affect his body, hoping Arthur wouldn’t notice that something was poking him in the back.

It wasn’t long until they were far out of sight or earshot of anyone else; the horse raced down the grassy slope at a surprisingly good pace for something so bulky. Arthur couldn’t quite put his hand on it, but something felt off. At first, he thought that perhaps it was the saddle. Most of the riding he’d done had been back on the mainland, with a particular style of saddle. He’d never actually used a western one before, though he’d heard about them. Something about them having a piece that stuck up called a horn; it was an embarrassingly limited knowledge, but it had never been something that the situation called for him to learn. Still, he was pretty sure the horn went in front, and that it was, in fact, the thing sticking up in front of him.

It was only after they’d begun riding into the woods that Arthur pulled back to slow the horse down, allowing himself a chance to get a better idea as to just what the thing was. As the realization dawned on him, a sly smirk crossed his face.

“So,” he said, in as innocent a voice as he could manage. “Is that what you westerners call the ‘horn?’ ”

“H-Huh?” Alfred asked, having not been paying much attention to his surroundings, only focusing on trying to control his urges. “Oh..” he suddenly realized, face turning red. “S-So you can feel it huh?” He felt humiliated, getting turned on just by simply riding a horse with Arthur. It felt good though, to have his cock rubbing against the other. It made him briefly wonder if Arthur would ever let him penetrate him.

“Of course I can feel it; I’ve been feeling it for the past mile,” answered Arthur, not letting on that he’d only just then figured out exactly what it was. “Such a naughty boy, you are. Had I known that a horse was all it took to get you excited, I’d have done this ages ago. Unless…” He grinned ear to ear, wishing he could afford to turn his head to see the look on Alfred’s face without getting hit by a branch. “Don’t tell me it’s the horse you want inside you?”

Alfred’s eyes opened wide as he heard that last part, unable to believe what Arthur had just said. “N-No, that’s disgusting!” Alfred practically shouted. Still, Arthur’s words were turning him on a bit. “Um, I-I’d rather, maybe see what it would be like to,” he paused at that, hoping that what he was about to say wouldn’t upset the pirate. “To maybe be inside you.”

The smile faded from Arthur’s face. He pulled back on the reins, and the horse came to a halt.

“Excuse me?” he said, his words laced with such venom that it seemed to poison the very air around them. “What did you just say?” He turned his head, his eyes like sharpened knives. “After all I’ve done for you, you dare to insult me like that?”

“N-No I was just asking,” Alfred said, feeling his heart skip a beat as Arthur spoke. He knew it was a mistake to ask, instantly regretting his actions. “I-I was just curious is all, I didn’t mean any disrespect.”

Unfortunately for Alfred, Arthur went on as though he hadn’t even heard him. “Do you know what I went through to rescue you from Francis, Alfred? It matters little for you; you’re not in charge of anything. But I was degraded in front of my entire crew! Me! Their leader! Stacked on top of my own bedmate like some common slut!” The horse began moving forward again, slowly, to munch on some of the nearby grass while they spoke. “But I forgave you. I thought that maybe you’d learned your lesson. That you understood that I went through all that because I cared about you. And now, you have the gall to ask that I, your captain, your husband, and your owner, submit myself to you?”

“I-I’m sorry, just forget I said anything okay?” Alfred said, tears starting to run down his face. It had been such a good day too, he was so angry at himself for ruining it. “Please forgive me, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“Oh, Alfred, when are you going to realize that I can’t just forget transgressions?” sighed Arthur, shaking his head. He jerked the reins up, forcing the horse’s head away from its snack. It shook its head, irritated, and continued onwards. “You will be punished for your insolence, that much is certain.” He stared down at the riding crop in his hand as he rode onward. It would have to wait until they reached the meadow, where nobody else was around; not too many people in the area had time for such leisurely activities, after all, and those who did preferred to spend their time in town.

Alfred began to cry as he heard that, wishing he could go back and stop himself from even bringing it up. “I’m sorry, I won’t ever ask that again,” he sobbed, face buried against Arthur’s back as they rode on. “Please forgive me.”

“I’ll forgive you if you stop crying and take your punishment with dignity. Honestly,” scoffed Arthur, shaking his head. It was good that the punishments were effective enough that Alfred didn’t like them - as some did - but hearing him sob and whine about it was terribly annoying. Had he any semblance of a brain, he wouldn’t be in this mess. “Now, do you want to see the flowers, or not? I didn’t come all this way just for you to be blinded by tears.”

Alfred did his best to calm down, knowing there was nothing he could do about his punishment. “Yeah, I do,” he whimpered, wiping his eyes with his hands. He could at least somewhat enjoy their outing.

“Good,” said Arthur, ducking under another branch.

At last, the horse stepped out into a clearing, with no trees overhead for almost as far as the eye could see. Above, there was nothing but open space, and only a few little puffs of white dared to fill the bright blue sky. The ground was awash with color; blues, reds, pinks, yellows, and more were scattered across the field like a painting. Arthur squinted as his eyes adjusted to the harsh light after traveling under the shade of the forest.

Alfred had to admit it was rather beautiful, flowers covering the ground as the horse trotted into the area. It was making him feel a bit better, his tears stopping. “It’s pretty here,” he said, voice quiet as he talked.

As sappy as it was, Arthur was hoping to cheer Alfred up a bit; “Not as pretty as you,” he replied, giving the horse a light kick to get it moving towards the center of the clearing, instead of standing idly to munch on the plant life.

Alfred blushed a bit at that, the comment did cheer him up a bit. “Thanks,” he mumbled, leaning against Arthur’s back as the horse walked along. It almost made him forget about Arthur’s outburst earlier.

“You know,” said Arthur, stopping the horse again; the animal snorted and went back to trying to eat the flowers, uninterested in their conversation. “Nobody ever comes out here. We could take care of that problem of yours.”

Alfred sighed, he should have known this good feeling wouldn’t have lasted too long. Still, it was better to get it over with. “Sure, we can,” he muttered, holding in his tears. As soon as they got it done the better.

“Oh, don’t sound so upset. I thought the ride had you all hot and bothered,” said Arthur, swinging his leg carefully over the horse’s head so as not to hit it or Alfred, then landing on the ground with a dull ‘thud.’ In hindsight, it would have been funny to make his ‘wife’ ride side-saddle. Then again, that might have drawn unwanted attention back in town.

Alfred got off of the horse as well, his cock still a bit hard even after Arthur's outburst earlier. "It is nice here," he said, looking around. He could almost enjoy the moment if he wasn't worried about his punishment.

“Quite a romantic atmosphere, wouldn’t you agree?” asked Arthur, firmly smacking Alfred’s rear to reassert himself, especially after such an awful question. “It’s almost strange after all my time at sea to feel ground beneath me that isn’t rocking back and forth.”

A yelp escaped Alfred as his ass was suddenly smacked, blushing deeply. "It is really nice," he said, almost wanting to just lay down in the cool grass beneath them.

Arthur reached up to wrap his arms around Alfred’s neck, then pulled him into a kiss, simultaneously dragging him down to the ground. The horse turned to look at them for a moment or so, then turned its head and continued its feast of dandelions. For a moment, Arthur was concerned that it would try to run away, but it wasn’t long before its eyes closed, and its head drooped down for a nap.

Alfred was now sitting among the flowers, almost wondering if Arthur was actually going to punish him. The kiss seemed so gentle, Alfred awkwardly kissing back. He couldn't afford to upset Arthur any more after all.

Arthur pressed his tongue past Alfred’s lips, his cock already growing stiff in his trousers, yearning to fill his tight hole. He barely even minded the fact that his good clothes were getting covered in dirt as he began to unbutton Alfred’s shirt. When he broke the kiss at last, he licked up every last drop of saliva from his lips.

“Tastes like apple pie,” he commented.

Alfred shivered as the cool air hit his chest, letting Arthur take control of the kiss. "Well, I ate it earlier," he said, face bright red. Arthur was being almost romantic, it felt strange but he didn't mind. Much better than when Arthur was violent.

Arthur rolled his eyes. Alfred wasn’t really picking up on the whole ‘sweet nothings’ thing. Nor had he figured out dirty talk. Well, good things came to those who waited. “You have such a lovely face. If there’s one thing I must make sure never to damage, it’s this,” he purred, kissing Alfred’s cheek and pushing him onto his back. “I bet it’ll look even better while I’m fucking you senseless. Isn’t that right?” He was already between Alfred’s legs, dry-humping his clothed posterior.

Alfred groaned at the friction, spreading his legs for the other. Arthur's words were going straight to his cock, already leaking a bit of precum against his trousers. "Yeah," he whimpered, shutting his eyes.

At long last, he managed to get Alfred unbuttoned, and slid his hands beneath the white undershirt to play with his sensitive nipples. “Are you going to cry out for me? Are you going to beg for my cock as though your life depended on it?” He gave them both a tug, and lightly twisted them just enough to be felt without being overly painful.

Alfred squirmed as his chest was toyed with, a moan escaping his throat. "P-Please, fuck me," he begged, doing what Arthur wanted. He'd be lying though if he were to say he didn't want it, his cock painful against the fabric of his trousers.

Much as he wanted to rip them off, Arthur knew they needed something to wear on the way back - he’d had to sneak naked back to his ship one time too many - so he began to unbutton Alfred’s trousers. “Kick your shoes off. They’ll just get in the way.”

Alfred nodded, using his heels to slip his shoes off, lifting his ass up so Arthur could pull down his pants. "No one's gonna find us, right?" He asked, looking around the small clearing they were in.

“Nobody has any reason to come here, and they never do,” Arthur assured him, though he would be lying if he said that the thrill of doing something where someone could potentially catch them wasn’t exciting. “People don’t have time to go riding through meadows.” He tossed the clothing aside, in the direction of the horse.

Well, that was true. Even back in Alfred’s old village not very many people rode out to meadows unless they were a young couple trying to hide from their parents. He was curious though if Arthur was going to punish him for earlier, so far the man was acting like it had never happened.

Arthur quickly stripped off the remainder of Alfred’s clothing, strewing it about the meadow. Even if someone were to pass by, he had a gun, and he would just interrogate them until he had enough to threaten them with if they talked. Of course, he could kill them, too, but that would upset Alfred.

“Now,” he said, holding up the riding crop he’d set aside. “Why don’t we play a little game? You get on your hands and knees.”

Alfred eyed the crop, taking a deep breath before getting over on his hands and knees like he was told. Arthur didn’t seem too angry, maybe it would all be over soon. “Is this okay?” he asked, facing away from the other.

“Perfect,” said Arthur. He swung his leg over Alfred’s back, and sat his own bare bottom down upon it. “There, now you’re just like a noble steed!”

Alfred grunted as Arthur’s weight pushed on his back. He didn’t dare open his mouth to say anything, knowing he should just accept his punishment with dignity.

“Well, not quite like a noble steed…” mused Arthur. He glanced around for something to use; there was a piece of rope hanging out of one of the saddlebags that he hadn’t paid much heed earlier; presumably, it was to tie it up in the event that a hitching post was unavailable. He got up just long enough to grab it, then sat back down to tie it into a loop. “Take this into your mouth,” he said, dangling it down in front of his head. “A noble steed needs reigns.”

Well, so much for dignity Alfred thought to himself, opening his mouth and biting down on the rope. Thank god no one was around, at least while alone he wouldn’t have to be humiliated as badly.

The horse had woken back up in the brief period of time Arthur had messed with the bags, and it stared at Alfred with a look that could only be described as confusion. The following noises from its throat sounded suspiciously like laughter, but that was impossible, when a dumb animal was involved, right?

Arthur pulled back on his makeshift ‘reigns,’ forcing Alfred to tilt his head upwards. “You know, some wealthy men and women have taken to using a special piece of equipment to keep their horses’ heads up high. Can you imagine pulling a cart like that?” he asked, snickering. “Come on. Get a move on.” He struck Alfred’s bottom with the crop.

Alfred yelped as he was suddenly smacked, head straining back as Arthur pulled on the rope. Slowly he moved his arms and legs, moving forward. It was hard to do with Arthur’s weight on him, his body aching as he inched forward.

Arthur certainly wasn’t about to make things easier on him; he dug his heels into the dirt to hold Alfred back, and struck his bottom several more times before the unfortunate captive was able to move so much as ten centimeters across the ground.

“I-I’m having trouble moving,” Alfred groaned through the rope, arms shaking as he held the both of them up. He managed to creep a few inches further, knowing he’d be rather sore in the morning.

“You want to be a man, don’t you? Men are strong. Men carry the weak,” said Arthur, striking him again. “Men lead. Men control. If you aren’t strong enough, then you’ll just have to admit that you’re a woman.”

Alfred didn’t want to admit he was a woman, groaning again as he moved them a bit forward. He was so glad Arthur was smaller than him, plus all the years working on the farm had toughened him up a bit. “N-No, I can do it.” he said, voice muffled.

“Oh, really?” said Arthur, lifting his heels off of the ground to make things a little more fair, while simultaneously putting his full weight on Alfred’s back. “How about we have a little bet, then? If you can make it all the way across this field, I’ll acknowledge your manhood, and you can fuck me for as long as you want.” It was an impossible feat; the field was massive, and the rocks would be terribly painful under his palms.

Alfred looked around the meadow, knowing already that it would be impossible to do. He was already so sore and he’d barely even moved. Trying his best to hold his tears in Alfred started to move, knowing he couldn’t give up yet. Still, after about a foot of moving he was ready to collapse.

“How weak,” said Arthur, shaking his head as Alfred struggled in vain. “As is to be expected. Didn’t I tell you? Women aren’t strong. They exist to support their husbands. I’ve been giving you lessons to use against other, weaker men, but you will never best me, and I will not acknowledge your manhood unless you can. You’re my wife, and you’re meant to do as you’re told.”

Alfred did his best to nod. “I-I’m sorry,” he said again, hoping Arthur could understand what he was saying. He just wanted it all to end and Arthur to go back to his normal self. Today had been going so well until he had to open his big mouth.

Arthur pulled the rope out of Alfred’s mouth. “Then tell me what I want to hear. Say that you’re my submissive, docile wife, and that it’s your duty to be faithful to your husband.” He would keep drilling it into his stupid head until he, too, finally started to believe it to be true. Humanity was a simple species; all one had to do was overpower another with your view and pressure them into accepting it for the sake of staying out of trouble. From there, it was only a matter of time before they truly adopted the same beliefs.

“I-I’m your submissive wife, I’m loyal to you,” Alfred whimpered, trying to keep himself from sobbing. He didn’t want to appear any weaker to Arthur than he already was after all. “I-I’ll do anything you want.”

At last, Arthur got off of Alfred’s back, and set the crop aside. The horse seemed to regard the display with bemusement, though it was impossible to get inside of the animal’s head to see what it really thought. It wasn’t like it was a unicorn. Unicorns were far more intelligent.

“Good,” said Arthur. He reached up and began petting Alfred’s hair. “Now, why don’t you just stay in that position? Part your legs a little more, though.” He pulled his hand away, scooted around behind Alfred, and fondled his bottom.

Alfred nodded, resting his upper body against the grass as he spread his legs more. His muscles would be sore later but it was his own fault and he knew it.

Arthur rubbed the head of his cock up and down the crack of Alfred’s behind, determined to show him once and for all who was in charge. “I want you to beg for me. But I don’t want you to call me by my name. You’re to refer to me as ‘captain.’ Do I make myself clear?”

"Yes, captain," Alfred groaned, resisting the urge to grind back against the other. "Please fuck me captain," he was getting aroused again, his cock having gone flaccid from the ordeal just earlier.

Arthur pressed the tip in briefly, then pulled it back out. Alfred wasn’t quite as unrelentingly tight as he’d once been, but he still needed some form of lubrication, so the pirate spat in his hand and did his best to coat his captive’s needy hole in saliva. “How naughty. Have you no shame, being exposed like this? Out in the open?”

“N-No one else is here,” Alfred whimpered, a low moan escaping his throat. It wasn’t like Arthur would stop even if he said it was too embarrassing to be doing this where they could be caught.

“And what would you do if we were caught, I wonder?” asked Arthur, licking his lips. He pushed his fingers in and out of Alfred’s entrance. There was something thrilling about the prospect of being found. Not that he was afraid of the consequences; he was fairly confident that he could control whatever resulted. It was just a fun sensation.

Alfred wasn’t sure what he would do. “S-Scare them away or something,” he answered, groaning and rolling his hips back against Arthur’s fingers. Unlike Arthur the idea of being found to Alfred was frightening, and he really didn’t understand why said risk seemed appealing to Arthur.

“And when they inevitably tried to have us arrested for such unholy acts?” inquired Arthur, as amused as ever by Alfred’s lack of forethought. Someday it was going to get him into serious trouble. Oh, what was he saying? It already had. He licked Alfred’s nose.

“W-Well, we would just hurry back to the ship,” Alfred said, cringing as the man’s tongue touched his nose. “Th-There isn’t really much else we could do.”

“We could kill them,” said Arthur, as though it were an obvious course of action that he was ashamed of Alfred for not thinking of. He stroked the once-pure colonist’s length, and pressed his fingertips against the spot that would make him moan beneath him like the whore he was.

Alfred did moan as Arthur's hands teased him, precum leaking from the tip of his cock. "N-No.." he whimpered, wishing Arthur wouldn't talk about such things.

“That’s ‘no, captain,’ to you,” said Arthur as he rubbed his fingers against Alfred’s sensitive prostate, then pulled them out to make room for his length. “Are you ready?” he asked, the tip already up against his needy partner.

Even if Alfred were to say no he knew Arthur would just shove in anyways. “Y-Yes captain,” he mumbled, face buried in his arms.

Hearing that word come from Alfred’s lips made Arthur wonder why he hadn’t made him use it sooner. In a single motion, he pushed himself all the way in, held tightly in place by Alfred’s comfortable heat.

Alfred groaned out as he was penetrated, a burning sensation shooting up his spine as he was stretched. At least the other had bothered to prepare him before Alfred told himself, knowing the pain would die down soon.

“I love it when you make those faces,” said Arthur, laughing; despite the angle, he could still see his reactions by leaning over to the side. He was quite fond of Alfred’s face; every contour was smooth and symmetrical, undamaged by broken bones or unsightly scars. “You’re as pretty as the fae folk.” He hoped none of the elves or fairies were around to hear him say that. To compare a human to their beauty upset them quite a bit. The last time he’d dared to insult them in such a way, they’d cursed him with bad luck, and he lost seventeen men to a privateer.

The fae folk? Alfred resisted the urge to tell the other that fairies and elves didn’t exist but he was smarter than that after all. “Ah, oh god,” he moaned, biting his lower lip to keep from being too loud.

“There you go taking the Lord’s name in vain again,” mused Arthur, though by that point in time, he had a feeling that Alfred wasn’t quite as concerned about such things. With Alfred’s little period of adjustment done and over with - as far as he was concerned, at least - the pirate began to move his hips.

Arthur was right, Alfred really didn’t care anymore. He had sinned so much by now such a thing as taking the lord’s name in vain meant nothing to him. Alfred gasped as the other began to move, hips starting to roll back against Arthur.

“Do you like that?” asked Arthur smugly, pleased by his pet’s progress. It was slow, slow going, but they’d finally reached a point where Alfred wasn’t quite so uptight. “This is worlds better than that whore back at the tavern would have been, isn’t it?”

“Y-Yes captain,” Alfred moaned, shutting his eyes and letting himself get absorbed in the pleasure. Still, he couldn’t help but wonder what being with a woman would be like, it was too bad he’d never get the chance to try it.

“That’s right. You don’t need people like her,” said Arthur, shaking his head and ruthlessly slamming his pelvis against Alfred’s firm behind. Besides, the problem with sleeping with women was that they really could get pregnant, as he’d had to learn the hard way. Not that he hadn’t known, but, well, he’d been young and drunk. It hadn’t exactly been in the forefront of his mind.

Alfred groaned as he was slammed into, cock hard and leaking a bit of precum. Still, it would just be nice to be with a woman, or at least be the one penetrating Arthur at least once. It felt so unfair that he had to be the woman every single time.

Arthur wrapped one arm up around Alfred’s body to reach for the pink nubs of his chest. “I’m never going to let you get away from me,” he breathed. Unfortunately, the height difference meant he couldn’t reach Alfred’s neck from their position, but he made sure to make up for that by tugging at the sensitive parts he could reach with is hands. “You’ll be mine forever.”

Alfred pushed back against the other, whimpering as Arthur toyed with his chest. “Ah..” he gasped, wishing Arthur would touch his cock instead.

“Don’t make me have to kill you,” panted Arthur, as the horse looked on with bored eyes. Much as he hated to admit it, he was growing rather attached to his Puritan pet, though he supposed he couldn’t really call himself a Puritan any longer. “I don’t want to lose you like the others.” People responded well to praise. “You’re special.” And flattery.

Alfred was rather taken aback by those words, eyes opening wide in shock. “B-But, I haven’t done anything wrong,” he whimpered, wondering if he had somehow done something to make the pirate angry. Well, aside from asking to top not that long ago.

“Of course you haven’t. That’s why I’m telling you this,” said Arthur, stroking his sides in a manner that could almost be described as tenderly. Of all the captives he’d taken, Alfred had proven the most successful, in terms of his training progress. “I don’t like hurting you. I hate it when you do things that force me to punish you. I want nothing more than to spoil you rotten. So, I will reiterate… Don’t make me kill you. It’s something I never want to have to do.” It would be fairly disappointing if he had to start from scratch.

Alfred nodded, Arthur’s words worrying him, reminding him that the pirate would and could kill him at any time if he were to mess up. “I-I’ll be good, I swear captain,” he groaned, unable to stop the small noises of pleasure from escaping his throat.

“I know you will, because you’re my good little pet,” said Arthur, pulled Alfred towards him with every thrust of his hips, spearing his hole with all his might, each thrust carefully angled to press right up against his prostate. “And an incredible fuck, at that. You take it so well now. No more whining, or complaining.”

Alfred could only moan some more, eyes shut and head resting against the cool grass. It did hurt much less now that he was used to it, his own cock leaking a bit of precum, desperately aching to be touched.

“Such a dirty whore,” said Arthur, though he spoke it more like a term of endearment than an insult. “Do you want to take the horse? Think of how far it would stretch you.” Had Alfred talked back after he’d been disciplined for his terribly offensive suggestion, Arthur would have made him take the horse. Not that his pet needed to know that.

“N-No!” Alfred screamed, disgusted by the very idea of having a horse inside of him. “That’s disgusting.” How could Arthur even think of such things? Surely he had never done it before right?

“Oh, really, now?” said Arthur, his hips jerking forward just a bit harder than usual. “You wouldn’t even do it if I ordered you to? You would disobey your captain?” He didn’t expect Alfred to like it, but he did expect him to obey orders when they were given.

Alfred had no idea what to say to that, grunting at the harsh thrust. “I-I d-don’t know,” he whimpered, face buried in the cool grass beneath him. He hated crying like this but he was terrified Arthur would go through with what he was saying.

“I’ll tell you, then,” said Arthur, using his hand to give Alfred’s cock a painful squeeze. “You would obey me, or I would tie you down and make you do it anyway. If I tell you to bend over for a stallion, you will bend over.” He would have just let it drop had Alfred said ‘yes,’ but he couldn’t just drop it after that response. “And I believe you’re supposed to be addressing me as captain, is that not correct?”

“Yes captain,” Alfred whimpered, hips jerking forward into Arthur’s touch. “I-I’ll do whatever you want captain,” hopefully the pirate would let it drop if he just agreed. There was no use arguing after all.

“There’s a good lad,” purred Arthur. As a reward, he gently stroked Alfred’s cock, and returned to the steady pace he’d had before. “You know your place, don’t you?” If he killed Alfred, he would have to keep more than the teeth. He was his favorite thus far, and he wanted more than just an offering to the fairies. Perhaps he would keep his skull. He always liked to admire his facial structure, after all. It would look lovely on his table.

Alfred tried to take his mind off of the horse, eyes shut as Arthur stroked his cock. “Ah,” he moaned, hips jerking forward in pleasure with each thrust of Arthur’s cock. “Y-Yes captain.”

“...Maybe your ribs, too,” murmured Arthur, still deep in thought. After all, given their situation, it wasn’t completely impossible for Alfred to end up dead. Even if he was obedient and didn’t have to be executed, there was still the possibility that he would be killed in a raid, or some such thing. “You have such a nice rib cage…”

What was Arthur talking about? Alfred really had no idea. He figured it’d be best not to ask, whatever it was he was sure would be messed up. Instead he simply focused on the pleasure building up inside him, his moans getting louder with each thrust.

Arthur kept moving his hand up and down. He wanted to be closer to Alfred. Deeper inside his body. There was a rising temptation to cut him open and wear his skin as a coat. The thought of how close the two of them would be was absolutely intoxicating, like a bottle of liquor. A shame it would be so bloody. Such a mess it would make. He would come out sticky and uncomfortable.

It wasn’t long until Alfred came, a loud groan escaping his throat as he spilled his seed onto the grass beneath him. He was breathing heavily now, tired and now just waiting until Arthur finished as well.

Arthur’s seed filled him barely a moment later, until his intestines were just as sticky and uncomfortable as the pirate’s fantasies. He gave Alfred’s round bottom a firm, affectionate pat, and looked around to make sure that they were still alone. Even if someone were in the area, they would have to get close to see them; the flowers were fairly tall, and obscured people who were laying down from sight.

“Good boy,” said Arthur, idly looking down at his legs. A few black ticks has latched onto his bare skin. He’d almost forgotten that such things existed back on land. “We’ll have to get some alcohol to put on these.”

Alfred opened his eyes and looked down at his legs, cringing as he saw the small black bugs attached to his skin. “Ew,” he muttered, draping an arm over his face. It wasn’t his first time having ticks but it didn’t make it any less gross.

“Well, that’s what happens when you have sex in the grass,” mused Arthur, somewhat amused by Alfred’s displeased expression. “They could be in worse places.” Just to be sure, he felt around his privates - or not so privates, seeing as they were exposed outside for the world to see - to make sure that none of them had gotten into any REALLY unpleasant spots. He breathed a little sigh of relief when he realized they hadn’t; sure, he’d faced far worse things, but that was just disgusting. He gave Alfred’s a brief look-over, too, and made sure to spread his legs to inspect the crack of his posterior. He didn’t spend a lot of time on land, but he knew enough to understand that those things liked to hide in places they weren’t likely to be discovered. “You’re good. Start getting dressed. We’ll get them off when we get to the ship.”

Alfred really didn’t want to wait to get the damn bugs off of him, standing up and starting to put his clothes back on. His backside and muscles were rather sore, Alfred doing his best to hide his pain, wincing a bit as he slipped his trousers on. He really wasn’t looking forward to the ride back either, knowing sitting on the horse would just hurt his ass even more.

Despite himself, Arthur couldn’t help but feel a little bad about the sour look on Alfred’s face. Determined to at least slightly alleviate the problem, he reached up to pat the horse’s saddle. It was either incredibly loyal, lazy, or otherwise perverted, because it had barely moved an inch since he’d left it. 

“I know you’re probably sore, but you can steer on the way back.” He knew from experience that it probably wasn’t the best consolation he could offer. “Next port, I’m going to get us separate horses, and you can ride to your heart’s content. No sex. Just the open plains spread out before us.”

“Really?” Alfred asked, mood immediately picking up as he heard that Arthur would get them separate horses next time. He climbed up onto the horse in front this time, cringing a bit as he sat down on his sore bottom.

“Really. Have I ever lied to you before?” asked Arthur honestly. He effortlessly clambered up onto the horse behind Alfred, having not just taken a cock up his ass. “Oh, sure, I’ve told some half-truths, punished you for your disobedience, and did a little acting during that whole incident with Francis, but I’ve always been honest with you. Technically.”

“What about the pregnancy thing?” Alfred asked, frowning. Using the reigns he got the horse walking, knowing how to ride one from the days back at the farm. It was nice to be sitting up front though, made him feel more like a man.

Arthur coughed awkwardly. “Okay, one lie. But I don’t think a practical joke really counts,” he said, looking away with the faintest of embarrassed blushes on his face. “I’ve never lied about anything meaningful.”

Alfred pouted at that. It was a rather cruel practical joke but it was best not to argue about it. Arthur was finally back in a good mood and he wasn’t going to ruin that. “Are we heading back to the ship once we return the horse?”

“It depends. Do you want to go back to the ship?” asked Arthur, reaching his arms around Alfred’s waist and pulling him in close. He wanted to rest his chin on Alfred’s shoulder, but the height difference shattered his dream. Instead, he settled for pressing his cheek against his beloved pet’s back. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up once they got into a populated area, but for right then, he liked being able to hold his property in his arms.

The horse walked on in a slow trot, Alfred smiling as he felt the pirate rest against his back. “Not really, but what else should we do?” he asked, wondering what else there was to do.

Arthur’s suggestions certainly started out innocent enough. “You could ride the horse a bit more, or we could wander through town,” he said, allowing himself a moment to rest his eyes. It was such a nice day, and they were in the middle of nowhere. “Or we could ride out to a remote farm, and I could teach you how to properly pillage.” And there went the innocent.

“Uh, let’s just ride the horse more,” Alfred said, frowning at the pillaging idea. No way did he want to learn how to pillage, the day his town was attacked still fresh in his mind. “I like riding anyways, it’s really calming.”

“Go right ahead. Just give me a heads-up if you’re going to go into a trot or a gallop,” said Arthur, taking the opportunity to relax for once. It was a pretty nice feeling. He didn’t get too many opportunities to simply rest, as though there were no more troubles in the world, and there weren’t hundreds of people out for his head.

Alfred nodded, letting the horse just slowly walk them along the path. Arthur leaning against him felt oddly romantic, Alfred blushing a bit at that. “Know any good places we can take the horse for a walk?”

Arthur’s eyes briefly fluttered open so he could point in a certain direction. “The last time I came here, there was a decent path to the next town over. It’s longer than the main way, but the shorter route gets flooded frequently during the rainy season. It’s clear, pretty, and not too many people travel along it this time of the year.” Naturally, they wouldn’t go the whole way, but it was a decent stretch of land to ride around purely for pleasure.

Alfred’s backside hurt a bit as they rode on, doing his best to ignore the pain since the ride was very nice and calming. He could rest when they got back to the ship. “Which way is it?” Alfred asked, holding the reins and having the horse go just a bit faster.

Arthur briefly reached around to tug Alfred’s arm - he would never quite understand why the colonists insisted on their bizarre, one-handed method of steering the horse, as opposed to a more traditional English style - in the direction he was referring to, then withdrew it to grip his torso once more.

“There’s something very calming about all this,” mused the pirate. “It almost makes one want to look back on their lives to contemplate just how they’re spending their days on this planet. We live in such a big, beautiful world. Perhaps I should just retire from piracy, and live the rest of my days as an honest merchant of the seas.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not,” Alfred said, assuming the pirate was. It was too bad though, he certainly wouldn’t mind being with Arthur as a merchant. He was getting used to sea life after all. It was too bad the other had to be a pirate.

“What, you don’t believe I’m capable?” said Arthur, chuckling. “Why, Alfred, darling, you wound me!” He reached up with one arm to ruffle Alfred’s hair. “But yes, I am joking. Quite frankly, the idea repulses me. After all, if I hadn’t been a pirate, I never would have met you.” He tightened his grip around the former farmer’s waist. He’d gotten more attached to Alfred than he’d initially intended. For one, he’d lasted the longest out of all his captives. For another, his naivety was incredibly endearing. It certainly didn’t hurt that he was quite the looker, to boot.

Alfred gave an awkward laugh at that, really wishing Arthur would turn to an honest life. For a moment he could forget all the terrible things Arthur had done to him and just appreciate the weirdly romantic moment.

Arthur exhaled, wishing he could somehow press their bodies closer together. “Such a lovely creature, you are. I’m never letting you go,” he murmured. Briefly, he felt a little concerned. Something about the situation seemed oddly familiar to him, but he brushed it off in favor of holding his ‘wife.’ “Someday you’ll understand the joy of taking by force what life has denied you.”

Alfred didn’t argue with that, still telling himself that he’d never end up like Arthur, never. “Next time we’re in port we should do this again. The pie and riding that is,” Alfred laughed, wondering what kind of pie he should get next time.

“Of course, my love,” said Arthur, nodding. In all honesty, he wasn’t quite sure just what his feelings were for Alfred anymore. He knew that he liked him, at least as a pet, but did he really, truly love him the way he claimed to? Or was he just caught up in the heat of the moment? He was a pirate. He couldn’t allow himself to feel so attached. What if something came along that required Alfred to die or otherwise be sacrificed? What if someone offered him an exorberant amount of money to buy him on the black market?

The horse got up into a trot, Alfred handling the reins as he led them along a path. “What would you like to do when we get back to the ship?” he asked, figuring Arthur would have some business to attend to when they got back. He could use some alone time after all of this.

“I have to spend some time alone with some of the other senior members of the crew planning our heist,” said Arthur, opening his eyes and easily clinging to the stallion. Much as he needed Alfred to learn, the poor thing was probably never going to be a strategist. It was nice that he’d gotten so much better with blades and guns in such a short period of time, but his head was as empty as a cicada’s shell. “You’ll have to stay out of the captain’s quarters until we’re done.” His grip on Alfred tightened even further. “If you’d like, you may either help some of the men unload cargo, spend some time training, or rest up below deck.”

“I’ll probably just rest,” Alfred said, his backside still stinging in pain from earlier. The day had gone by fairly well, Alfred able to easily forget Arthur’s anger from earlier. Things did seem to be slowly getting better and if he kept up his good behavior he was sure Arthur would let him see his family again soon.

“That’s fine. You’ll be hard at work training tomorrow, though. I love you, darling, but you must keep your skills sharp,” said Arthur, relaxing his grip just a little. The horse whinnied as they continued on under the trees. Again, he wondered just how much of what he said was true. Surely he didn’t honestly love Alfred. Or if he did, it was in the same way one might love a prized possession.

He frowned. That was a question for another day.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'eeeeeey, we're back! I know, I know, it's been a while. A long while. But, uh, here it is. This is actually only the first half of what was originally one whole continuous scene, but it was super long, so, uh, expect another chapter soon that picks off right where this one left off.

It was almost pitch black as they lowered the boats to approach the shore.  Without a dock, they couldn’t get close enough to solid ground to lower a ramp.  It was a slightly more complicated little maneuver, but Arthur still preferred the silence to the perpetually noisy docks.  A pirate ship was never truly  _ silent,  _ no, but it was still only a few dozen men to a few  _ hundred.   _ He far preferred the water lapping at the sides of the boat to the scraping of wood against wood, or the constant thud of dropped and falling crates.  The quietest were the boats, though, for his men understood the importance of silence on a raid.  They still chattered, yes, but they did so quietly, so as not to alert anyone crazy enough to go fishing at night.  With the lanterns blown out, it was imperative that they take it slow.

 

“Are you ready, Alfred?” asked Arthur, as though he were an older sibling taking his younger brother on his first deer hunt, and not a pirate taking his captive on his first raid.  He gave Alfred’s revolver a look-over, though it was a mostly fruitless effort in the dark.  “It’s easy, really.  These folk who live near the shore have less to fear from the savages inland, and have fewer weapons.  Keep your gun handy.  Shoot the men, leave the women for the crew.  Leave the children, too.  They’re rarely a threat, and killing them is dishonorable.”  Not that he believed Alfred was capable of doing so, anyway.  That last reminder was more to the other men in the boat.  “You’ve been training hard, love, and you’ve become an even better shot with a gun than many of my men.  I know you’ll help us get a big haul.  We might even find a lovely new piece of jewelry for you…”

 

Alfred had been feeling anxious ever since Arthur had told him that he had to participate in a raid. He knew there was no way he could ever kill someone, even if Arthur was expecting it. He reached out, taking the gun from the pirate, silently listening to the man’s words. Hopefully this raid wouldn’t last long and he could quickly erase the memory from his mind.

 

“Do I really have to?” Alfred asked, gulping as he did. He already knew the answer sadly, but he still asked. “I won’t be very good at it, I’ll just get in everyone’s way.” 

 

“Of course you’ll be good at it,” Arthur said in a voice that was clearly intended to be reassuring.  “Your aim is good, your fencing…” He paused to consider his words.  “...needs some work, admittedly, but you won’t encounter any swordsmen here, anyway.”  He reached up and playfully ruffled Alfred’s hair, curling his cowlick around his finger in the process.  “Just relax.  Enjoy yourself.”

 

Alfred was hoping he could somehow have gotten out of it, although he knew it would be pointless. Hopefully he could just get through it without having to kill anyone. Even now thinking about going on a raid just reminded him of how he had been taken from his home. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

 

“Nonsense, of course you can!” said Arthur.  He rose up out of his seat in the rowboat somewhat to lean over and give Alfred a peck on the lips, rocking it slightly, but after all his years on ships, his sea legs were good enough that he kept perfect balance.  “You’re far more prepared for combat than any of those silly civilians.  They won’t stand a chance.  Relax, love, I wouldn’t have taken you if I thought you weren’t ready.”

 

There was a soft little lurch as the hull came into contact with the sand.  Lanterns were blown out, and one by one, the pirates gingerly stepped out of the boats and into the shallows.  Arthur swung himself over the side and landed in the water with a noisy splash, the salty sea halfway to his knees.  The boots helped a little, but it still soaked his trousers.  That was to be expected, though.  He beckoned for Alfred to follow as he and the others trudged a few more meters to shore.

 

Alfred didn’t really kiss back, letting Arthur’s simply touch his before the pirate withdrew. Scared of lagging behind Alfred quickly hopped out of the boat, immediately shivering as the cold water soaked into his boots and trousers. Breathing heavily he headed up to Arthur’s side, gun in hand as he followed the other.

 

The walk was only about fifteen minutes; fishing villages didn’t like to set themselves up too far from the water.  To have done so would have been impractical, given their main source of food.  Still, it felt like much longer, at least to Arthur.  He had been on many a raid in the past, and a lot of them had been with people who were less than willing to take lives or belongings, especially of the innocent.  Still, if THEY didn’t perform as expected, he could always just kill them.  He wanted to keep Alfred, but he didn’t want to just keep him locked up on the ship all the time.

 

Arthur couldn’t explain it.  He just really,  _ really  _ wanted to see Alfred enjoying his work.  He wanted to see Alfred stealing alongside him,  _ killing  _ alongside him… The two of them, up against the world… It was almost romantic.

 

_ Uhg.   _ That frog had rubbed off on him during their last meeting, hadn’t he?  As though he had feelings for Alfred.  He was just another whore.  A deliciously appealing whore, whose presence he quite enjoyed, but a whore nonetheless.  Arthur scowled to himself.  Attachment led to tragedy.  Once you started caring, it was only a matter of time before you had your heart ripped out.  He’d lost everything in the past, and he was never going to hurt like that again.  Hurting was for the weak.  The more people  _ he  _ hurt, the stronger he became.

 

Arthur licked his lips as the man-made structures they came across became more numerous.  He couldn’t wait to run his blade through some hearts.

 

“Spread out and begin, keeping a low profile,” he ordered quietly.  “Alfred, you stay with me, and keep it down.  The longer it takes for the alert to be spread, the easier this will be.”

 

Alfred silently nodded although he knew Arthur probably wouldn’t see it. Alfred could feel some palpitations, his heart pounding. Sure he had gotten more used to life on the ship since his capture, and sure he had technically killed someone, but he was still scared. 

 

Alfred could vividly remember that moment too when he struck the knife straight into that man. It made him want to throw up just thinking about it, his stomach lurching a bit as he followed behind.

 

Arthur led them to the nearest building, giving Alfred soft instructions all the while.

 

“Always keep a lookout for dogs.  If we have to, we can shoot them, but they’ll inevitably bark enough to rouse people before then,” the pirate explained.  “If you see one, try to stay downwind.  Don’t let them smell you, though they’re just as likely to hear you.”

 

Speaking of which, it was probably best to quiet down as they got closer, so Arthur shut his mouth in favor of leading Alfred around the back of what looked to be a small home.  Carefully, he poked his head around the corner, until the entrance was in sight.  There was no evidence that they owned any sort of a canine, so he took a peek inside to evaluate what they were up against.  One man, one woman.  No children.  Perfect for Alfred’s first time.  He leaned back to whisper the plan to his pet:

 

“I want you to go in first,” said Arthur, looking around and grabbing some rope up from the ground; it had many uses, and colonists were such a messy bunch, keeping their shit all over the place… Regardless, he certainly wasn’t going to waste his OWN rope, so it was probably for the best.  “You’re going to kill the man while I restrain his wife.  They don’t own a gun; too poor, and too far from the savages to need one for defense.  On top of that, this is a fishing village, not a hunting village.  You should be able to take him out easily with a sword.  Just go in and cut his throat.  Or stab him in the chest.  I don’t care, as long as he’s dead.”

 

Alfred could barely hear Arthur’s words over the sound of his own heartbeating. There was no way he could just walk in and slit someone’s throat like that and he immediately began thinking of ways to get out of it. Maybe if he “accidentally” made too much noise the people would wake up before he got to them.

 

“Why do I have to kill him though?” Alfred asked quietly, a look of horror on his face as he spoke.

 

Arthur sighed, something that it seemed he was doing a lot of around Alfred; one day, he feared overuse of the gesture would cause his lungs to deflate forever.

 

“Even an unarmed man can be a threat, if you try to take that which is dear to him,” said Arthur simply.  The ‘I don’t consider you a threat to me, and therefore I don’t consider you a man’ remained an unspoken implication of his words.  Women could also be surprisingly clever, he’d learned, but he could easily overpower some farmer’s wife.  He’d met some surprisingly strong women in his travels, of course - a certain Hungarian came to mind - but they seemed so few and far between that he wasn’t terribly concerned.  Perhaps they themselves were just men at heart.  “Now, on my signal, you’re to follow me into the house and take him out, preferably asleep.  It should be a simple task if you stay quiet.  Screw it up  _ intentionally,  _ and you  _ will  _ be punished.”

 

Without giving Alfred time to respond, he hurried to the door, pressed his ear to the wood to ensure that no one was still awake, then motioned with his hand for his pet to follow.  Wordlessly, he rushed in, silent as the night, rope in hand.

 

Within seconds, the farmer’s wife had been woken up, but it made little difference, seeing as Arthur had shoved a cloth into her mouth and tied one over her nose; there would still be air to breathe, but the noise was muffled.  Even so, it would only be moments before her husband noticed something amiss.  Quickly, he glanced over his shoulder in search of his pet.

 

Alfred was standing behind Arthur, gun in hand as he watched. His eyes darted over to the woman’s husband, miraculously still asleep. He knew he had to do it, but he wasn’t sure of himself. Getting his gun in position he headed to the foot of the man’s bed and aimed, pressing his finger to the trigger.

 

He had purposefully aimed a bit off, the bullet barely passing by the man’s head.

 

Arthur’s first reaction was to gape.  He wanted to facepalm, but that would have cut off his visibility, which wasn’t exactly the best way to handle the fact that the man they were supposed to kill had just awoken with a start.

 

“Alfred, you bloody  _ idiot…”  _ he resigned himself to saying as he simply dropped the bound woman in his arms to the ground.  She shrieked about as much as she could with the gag in her mouth, but a solid kick in the head was enough to knock her out and shut her up.

 

Meanwhile, Mr. Should Have Been Dead was still very much alive, and not at all pleased by the situation.

 

“Wh-who are you?  What are you doing in my house?” he demanded, only to see his wife’s unconscious body tied up on the floor.  “What are you doing to my  _ wife?” _

 

He was about to get up when Arthur pulled out a gun of his own to hold to his head.

 

“Sorry, but I can’t reward my pet for his failures,” were the final words he heard before his brain was splattered all over the blankets.  His body fell back down upon the bed with a quiet little ‘whumf.’   _ “Intentional  _ failures, to boot.  Alfred, you had him at point blank range.  I  _ know  _ you missed on purpose.  Do you think I’m an idiot?”

 

Alfred flinched at the gunshot, a bit of blood splattering onto his clothes. “I-I didn’t miss on purpose,” he insisted, averting his gaze from the pirate. “I-I’m just really nervous is all, my hands were shaking,” that part was true at least.

 

Still, Arthur was no idiot and he knew he’d be suffering for his mistake later

.

“Liar,” snarled Arthur, putting away his gun to grab Alfred by the shirt and slam him against the wall.  “Even someone who’d never held a gun before could have managed to at least hit him!  You  _ will  _ suffer consequences for deliberately disobeying me!”  

 

A grin spread across his face as the woman beside them stirred.  In fiction, a person who’d been knocked out stayed down for hours.  In reality, it was more likely to be anywhere from a few seconds to a couple of minutes at most; any more than that, and they’d probably suffered permanent damage.  A good thing, too, because he knew exactly how he was going to punish Alfred.

 

He pulled a knife from his trousers, handed it to Alfred, then retrieved his gun once more to aim it at his pet’s head.

 

“It could have been quick and easy.  A simple pull of the trigger.  Not anymore,” he said darkly, taking a step back to allow Alfred enough space to move.  “Cut her dress off.  And if you refuse me, or attempt to cut the ropes binding her, I’ll kill you both.”

 

Alfred’s face felt like it was going to bruise, tears in his eyes as the knife was given to his shaky hand. 

 

“W-Wait, you want me to..?” he cut himself off as he turned his gaze to the woman, fear evident in her eyes. Alfred knew he had no other choice though, especially with the gun pointing rather close at his head.

 

Kneeling down he began to awkwardly cut at the woman’s dress, starting with the top part. “S-Sorry,” he muttered, knowing it was best to get it over with.

 

Just to make things worse for Alfred, Arthur tore the gag from the woman’s mouth as he began the task he’d been assigned.

 

“Wait, what are you doing?” shrieked the woman, only to notice the blood on Alfred’s face.  “Where’s my husband?   _ WHERE’S MY HUSBAND?”   _ Her head turned towards the corpse that Arthur rather ungraciously dumped to the floor beside her.  For a long moment, she was silent.

 

Then, predictably enough, she began to scream and cry.  Her voice was barely coherent anymore as her clothing was sliced away.

 

“YOU MONSTERS!” she wailed.  “You killed him!  Oh, God, you  _ killed him!   _ Get off of me!  GET OFF OF ME!  Murderers!  Satanists!   _ Demons!” _

 

Her screams just made Alfred feel worse, only reminding him of what he was like when Arthur had first raided his home. Tears began to freely fall as he continued his cutting, exposing the woman’s breasts.

 

It honestly made him feel sick, having to turn his body a bit to get the woman’s dead husband out of view. “A-Arthur, please, please don’t make me do this.”

 

“Oh, but Alfred, haven’t you wanted to try it with a woman for the longest time?” teased Arthur, leaning in close and raising his voice to make sure that he was heard over the sounds of the woman’s screaming.

 

Her voice grew louder still as her breasts were freed from the confines of her dress.  At least she wasn’t a Puritan.  According to  _ their  _ belief system, what was happening to her was just punishment for her sins.  Oh, wait a second, Arthur supposed he could use that.

 

“It’s fine, Alfred,” Arthur said in a mocking tone of voice.  “This wouldn’t be happening to her if God favored her, isn’t that right?”  He waved the gun again, a silent command for his pet to get things done faster.

 

Alfred nodded as he simply lifted the woman’s dress up, hands already working on removing any undergarments. He wasn’t exactly sure how he was to force himself on her when his cock was very flaccid. He wasn’t sure there was anything that could arouse him at this point, finally removing everything underneath her dress.

 

“You’re a monster!” screeched the woman.  She spat in Alfred’s face, eyes still full of tears.  “You’re a demon, and you’re going straight to Hell!   _ You murderer!  Get off of me!” _

 

Arthur strolled around to kneel down behind Alfred, pressing his gun to the back of his head.  “Isn’t this lovely?  I’m giving you what you’ve wanted for the longest time.  Really, this hardly even qualifies as a punishment!”  His left arm snaked around Alfred’s waist, and he pulled out his pet’s flaccid cock to start stroking it to full hardness.  The sight only made the woman scream louder, if that were even possible.  It was becoming genuinely ear-splitting, and Arthur was tempted to gag her again just to keep it from giving him a headache.

 

“DON’T DO THIS!   _ STOP!   _ HELP!   _ SOMEBODY HELP ME!” _

 

Alfred couldn’t help but let out a gasp as Arthur’s familiar fingers wrapped around his cock. “Arthur please,” he whimpered, shutting his eyes tightly. Not that it helped distract him much considering the woman’s screams. 

 

He knew he was going to hell, the woman didn’t need to tell him that.

 

“What’s wrong, love?” asked Arthur, refusing to cease his movements.  “I thought you wanted this.  I’m only helping you prepare yourself.  Such a touching moment, isn’t it?  Your first time with someone of the opposite sex!”

 

It was perfect.  For Arthur, anyway.  Never again would Alfred be able to imagine a woman without remembering the one beneath him right then.  The woman at the tavern whom he’d eyed with desire would never again tempt him away from his master, owner, captain, and husband.

 

Still, her wails were really beginning to grate on his nerves, so he fired a bullet beside her head to get her attention.

 

“If you don’t quiet down, I  _ will  _ kill you, is that clear?  I only need your body for this lesson; it doesn’t have to be alive!”

 

Even Alfred couldn’t help but scream at the gunshot, half tempted himself to re-gag the woman. Luckily though that seemed to do the trick, her screams turning into quiet sobs.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” Alfred yelled out again, hands holding her legs apart, exposing her to himself. Yes, it was true that he had always wanted to try it with a woman, but not like this.

 

“You’re not sorry,” she spat.  “You’re a murderer  _ and  _ a liar!  Go to Hell!  Go to Hell, go to Hell, go to Hell!”  She continued to chant those words as she cried, turning her head to one side so she didn’t have to look at him.

 

“Get on with it, Alfred.  You know you want to,” said Arthur, not letting up in the slightest as he stroked Alfred’s unwilling length.  “Think of the pleasure.  How  _ good  _ it will feel.”

 

Alfred slapped Arthur’s hand away, ready to get on with it. With hesitation he moved closer to the woman, shivering as his cock rubbed against her outer labia. Slowly he began to push in, unable to hold back as a soft moan escaped his lips.

 

God, he was sick, finding pleasure even now as he forced his way into her.

 

All that remained for Arthur to do was to wipe his hand on his trousers and watch the show.  The horror of what he was doing would traumatize Alfred on its own; there was no need for him to involve himself any further.  The woman briefly looked like she was about to start screaming hysterically again, but a quick wave of his gun kept the noise level down.  Idly, he decided to take a seat on the corpse of her husband; it wasn’t particularly comfortable, but it gave him a better view of the show than the bed, and was more comfortable than the floor.

 

“Completely ignorant of how to please a woman, aren’t you?” mused Arthur.  “Fondle her breasts a bit.”

 

It was Alfred’s own fault.  They would have been done by then if he’d just killed the man like he’d been ordered.

 

Alfred nodded, slowly reaching down and cupping both of her breasts in his hands, his thrusts stopping momentarily as he focused on that.

 

Of course he had no idea how to please a woman he wanted to scream, biting his lower lip as he began to move again, slowly thrusting. At least she had quieted down, it was easier this way for Alfred to try and focus on something else.

 

Meanwhile, Arthur picked up a conveniently-placed apple that seemed to have fallen to the floor in the chaos and took a single bite before casually discarding the rest back on the ground, in a move that one might swear the creators of the universe had deliberately engineered to make him look like even more of an asshole.  Without thinking, the fingers of his free hand wove through the bloody hair of the corpse he was sitting upon, silently petting it and imagining that it was Alfred’s.  His poor, traumatized pet was doing such a good job of being awful.  Once he got used to it, it would cease to bother him.

 

That was when the woman spoke up again.

 

“Kill me,” she whispered.

 

“How very unholy of you to say,” mused Arthur.  “Pay her words no heed, Alfred.  Just enjoy yourself.”

 

Alfred was shocked to hear her words, fresh tears forming in his eyes as he continued to thrust. He knew exactly how the poor woman felt, so often he had wished to die instead of stay with Arthur, although he had never been brave enough to go through with it. “I-I can’t,” he whimpered out.

 

Still, to not kill her seemed almost too cruel. Her husband killed in front of her face and her body violated. Alfred knew she could easily be taken as a slave on board too.

 

With shaky hands he slowly reached down, wrapping his fingers around her neck, applying pressure.

 

Arthur didn’t do anything to stop him.  On the contrary, he watched with wide, fascinated eyes as Alfred began to squeeze her throat.  Suffocation was one of the most drawn out ways to kill someone.  Poor thing was probably too ignorant to realize that she would suffer less if he just shot her.  Just because there wasn’t as much blood didn’t mean it was any less horrible.  If he himself had to pick, he’d have taken the bullet.

 

Still, Arthur couldn’t help but take great amusement out of the whole spectacle, his gaze shifting to her face to see if perhaps she changed her mind about her request to die at the last minute.  Not that he intended to say anything; he wanted the image of her dying eyes burned into Alfred’s mind for the rest of his short life.  Any time he looked at a woman and started to feel the slightest bit aroused, he would remember strangling an innocent to death.  The only sex he was allowed to take pleasure out of was sex with his master.

 

Alfred honestly had no idea how long it took for someone to suffocate to death, tightening his grip around the woman’s neck. He couldn’t help but mutter a soft ‘sorry’ knowing that she probably didn’t hear it. Even if she did it didn’t matter, sorry alone wouldn’t undo this.

 

As he tightened his grip he shut his eyes, hips moving slowly, his mostly soft cock pushing in and out of her. God he hoped it would end soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this.

 

The woman’s tormented face took on a red hue, then gradually went purple as she was continuously denied oxygen.  A grin broke out across Arthur’s face as a hint of regret appeared in her eyes, which were practically bugging out of her skull as her body instinctively yearned for air.  Her struggles began to slow, and her eyelids descended halfway down her irises as her consciousness began to fade away.  The tongue hanging limply from her mouth did nothing to free her airways.

 

“Be sure to keep the pressure up for a little while, yet,” said Arthur.  “Right now she’s just falling unconscious.  It’ll take a bit longer before it actually kills her.  Or, if you want to speed things up…”  He nodded towards Alfred’s gun.

 

Alfred had kept his eyes closed, opening them as Arthur spoke only to immediately regret it. The look of agony on the woman’s face was enough to make him feel sick. His hips stopped moving as he further tightened his grip around her neck. 

 

“H-How long do I have to do this?”

 

“Four to seven minutes ought to do it,” said Arthur, tempted to just shoot her and get it over with.  But then, the lesson wouldn’t quite sink in the same way.  Alfred had to be the one to kill her.  “Look her in the face as she dies, Alfred, or we’ll just have to do it all over again on some other woman.”

 

Those words alone caused Alfred’s eyes to shoot wide open, tears falling as he stared at her face. At least she was unconscious now he thought, at least she wasn’t struggling anymore. 

 

Time felt like it was passing so slowly, Alfred no longer thrusting as he focused solely on trying to kill his victim.

 

“Keep thrusting, too.  Come on, you’re meant to be enjoying yourself,” chided Arthur.  “You wanted to be with a woman, remember?”

 

He still didn’t touch Alfred, unwilling to have his pet start associating his hands with the sensation of penetrating another.  No, when the ex-Puritan boy felt his touch, the first impulse Arthur intended for him to feel was that of submission.

 

Alfred let out a frustrated groan as he slowly started to move his hips despite his mostly soft cock now. He kept his grip tight on the woman’s neck, assuming Arthur would tell him when to let up.

 

Arthur shrugged, still failing to understand why Alfred insisted on suffocating her.  A bullet really  _ would  _ have been the easier option.  Perhaps it was so he could imagine that she was just sleeping, instead of having bits of blood and flesh scattering everywhere.  He would just have to make sure he was aware of just how much unnecessary suffering he’d caused her on the way out when he was done.  Couldn’t have him coming out of the ordeal untraumatized.  That, and the fact that he had explicitly made the decision earlier to have sex with her so she wouldn’t die.  Yet, there she was, dead  _ and  _ raped.  Pity, that.

 

Eventually, the pirate captain reached down to check the woman’s pulse, and gave Alfred a nod.  “She’s definitely dead, you can remove your hands from her neck now.  I’ll let you decide for yourself whether to continue or pull out.  Your choice.  No consequences either way.”

 

As soon as Alfred heard those words he immediately withdrew from the woman’s body, not even bothering to pull his trousers up as he fell back. “C-Can we go now, please?” he asked, voice louder this time. 

 

He shut his eyes, not wanting to look at her dead body as fresh tears began to flow. He couldn’t believe he had done such thing. He really was just like Arthur, wasn’t he?

 

With Alfred having pulled away from the woman’s corpse, Arthur finally stood up from his seat, which hadn’t been particularly comfortable from the beginning, and seemed to have become progressively less so as time went on.  Content that his pet had learned a valuable lesson about obeying orders, he reached forward to wrap his arms around his waist.

 

“Aye, I think we’re done here,” said Arthur.  One hand slid upwards to pet Alfred’s head.  “Good boy.  Pull up your trousers.”

 

Alfred pushed himself away from Arthur, quickly pulling up his trousers. “Can we get out of here now?” he asked, trying to hide the anger in his voice. He could feel fresh tears forming as he refused to even look at Arthur.

 

“You don’t want to meet up with the others in town first?  They should have things under control by now.  Come on, I’ve given you enough breaks,” said Arthur, deciding to allow Alfred some space.  He didn’t want him to associate his trauma with his master’s loving embrace.  “We’ll head back to the ship after we go through the loot.  Besides, we have to get you some new clothes, now that those are covered in blood.”

 

Alfred sighed, knowing it wouldn’t be so easy to get out of it. “Fine, if that’s all we’re doing,” he replied, voice low. He was not going to kill another person, he couldn’t.

 

“That’s my good little lamb.  Now come on, up,” he said, as though there weren’t a pair of corpses on the floor, and the two of them weren’t covered in blood.  He offered his hand to help Alfred to his feet.  “It shouldn’t be a very long walk.  I can carry you, if you’d like.”

 

“I can walk myself,” Alfred said, not really wanting to be near Arthur. Carefully he stepped over the woman’s corpse in front of him, getting to Arthur’s side. He hoped they wouldn’t be out for too long, the day’s events so far had left him rather exhausted.

 

“Suit yourself.”


End file.
